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irmawrites · 2 months

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Sleeping with the enemy | One-Shot

Summary: your father, Gwayne Hightower, had always told you to beware of Davos Blackwood, son of one of your grandfather's most ardent haters. But when you meet him at a party years after graduating college, you can't help but think he's not so bad after all.

Rating: Explicit [18+], MDNI.

Pairing: modern!Davos Blackwood x Hightower!Reader (appearance isn’t specified, everyone is 18+ in this)

TW: smut with a tiny bit of plot, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), p in v sex, praising kink, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, dom/sub undertones, afab reader, not proofread.

Words count: 4393

Author’s note: Hi, everyone! This is my first time posting here, and I have to admit I'm a bit intimidated ahaha like a lot of people, I fell in love with Davos Blackwood's in episode three and ABSOLUTELY had to write this idea that's been on my mind for a while now.

I should probably mention that English is not my mother tongue, so please excuse my grammar mistakes!

Davos Blackwood had a bad reputation in your neighborhood, that much was true.

The rumors about him had started when you were still in college, something about red liquid smeared on the mirror in the boys' bathroom. A silly prank involving fake blood and strange theatrics to scare off a younger classmate that had perhaps gone too far. It was your own cousin Aemond who had found the fake crime scene just after the culprit had left, still licking his red-stained fingers. It caused quite a stir at the time, and he hadn't been seen on campus for at least two weeks. It may have been fake blood or just a tasteless joke, it was still inevitable that action would have to be taken.

It was Aeron Bracken in particular who had helped make these bizarre stories popular. He told anyone who would listen that Davos Blackwood was a deranged, violent madman. It was no secret that the two young men didn't get along. But no one expected things to get as bad as they did. There had been rumors in the hallways and whispers in the cafeteria, but that wasn't all. His car had been vandalized and marked with insults on several occasions. Even Gwayne Hightower, your father, had warned you.

A real witch hunt.

As far as you knew, however, the main target had remained unaffected by the situation, even toying with those who provoked him. In a way, he almost seemed to enjoy the wild, mysterious aura that all this fuss gave him.

You, for one, had never really believed it. After all, he didn't look like a bad guy, with his big, green eyes and permanently disheveled black hair. He seemed a little strange to you, a little off, but not enough to be considered a clear danger. But your opinion didn't matter much.

Nothing had ever destined the two of you to spend time together. His parents' company only did business with Rhaenyra's, refusing any ties and especially any agreements with the Hightowers. His father seemed to harbor a fierce hatred and boundless distrust of your family, apparently fearing that Otto's overweening ambition would lead him to overturn the order of succession established by Viserys himself and install his own grandson as sole ruler of the company.

And in your world, your parents had a bit more say in who you dated than they did for other people. You couldn't just go out with a guy because he seemed interesting, especially if he was the son of one of your grandfather's most ardent haters.

So you'd never spoken to each other in college, let alone at the lavish charity galas your family hosted.

Never, until that day.

"You like Iron Maiden?" a hoarse, unfamiliar voice said from behind you as you wrung the water out of your hair, "or is that your boyfriend's shirt?". The sun was high in the sky and you could feel the heat of its rays burning your exposed neck. The clear waters of the Targaryen family pool sparkled, and the garden echoed with the bursts of voices of those Aegon had invited to what should have been a casual gathering of the younger generation with ties to the Targaryen business.

You didn't think he'd invite Davos Blackwood, though.

"It's mine," you replied, giving the young man a mischievous smile, your fingers playing absentmindedly with the string that held the bottom of your swimsuit to your hip, "and yeah, it's one of my favorite bands actually." He seemed to take a moment to assess the situation, his eyes roaming up and down your body, an unreadable smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Never pegged you as a little rebel," he crossed his arms over his chest before continuing, "more of a model daughter." You knew he was toying with you, trying to tease you, but you were more than happy to play along.

Besides, you understood where the thought came from, you who were usually more used to short skirts and high heels than band shirts.

Mentally, you thanked Aegon for thinking of him. "Be careful, Blackwood," your voice sounded like a playful threat, "you might be surprised."

You were about to leave to return to the deck chairs, but it seemed that Davos wasn't quite finished with the conversation. "Wait," he ordered, taking your wrist between his broad fingers. Mechanically, you glanced around to make sure no one was watching. After all, the last thing you wanted was for someone to spy on your conversation with someone who still belonged to your grandfather's enemy side. "What is it?" it was your turn to cross your arms over your chest, your eyebrows furrowing as you waited for some kind of justification from him. It was clear he had something on his mind, but you just couldn't figure out what. "Do you want to come over to my place sometime?" he finally said, and you felt your breath catch somewhere between your throat and your lungs. "Why?" the question crossed your lips before you could even think about it.

You didn't know each other, had never spoken before, not to mention the fact that your families didn't approve of each other. You were tempted to agree, of course, because whether you liked it or not, you felt this kind of almost magnetic attraction pulling you together.

You'd have liked to think it was fate, but you knew it was just your love of danger and the forbidden.

His voice pulled you out of your thoughts again. "You seem like a pretty nice girl, and we obviously have the same taste in music," he replied, finally loosening his grip on your wrist, "we could watch a movie, get to know each other, something like that." The offer was tempting, the prospect of spending a little more time with him appealing, but even though you desperately wanted to say yes, you knew you couldn't. You had to be reasonable and listen to that little voice in your head that told you it all sounded like a terrible idea. But he seemed to sense your reluctance because he quickly added, "Don't worry, no one will know."

***

Davos’ room wasn't exactly what you'd call tidy. You noticed a half-full ashtray on the windowsill and a few empty cans on his desk. It was the opposite of your own bedroom, neatly decorated and perfectly organized. Your wardrobe drawers were a bit of an exception, but that didn't really matter.

Even so, you couldn't help but find it a little charming. The smell of his cologne in the air, the half-unraveled sheets, this was unmistakably him. It tasted risky and illicit, and it stirred something unfamiliar in the pit of your stomach. A reaction that no boy had ever managed to provoke in you.

"There's no denying it, vampires really are the best supernatural creatures," you muttered, sinking your teeth into the last slice of the half-cold pizza you'd ordered earlier. You were especially comfortable sitting cross-legged on his bed as the rain pounded against the windows and the end of the movie drew near on his computer screen. His parents were out of town for the week, on a business trip or something, providing you with an opportunity to finally meet away from prying eyes. He seemed quite comfortable too, with his leg pressed against yours and his hand wrapped around his soda cup, which he sipped absentmindedly. "I have to say, I never thought you'd be into movies like this," he told you after a few long seconds, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his lips, "given your looks, I thought you'd be more into romantic comedies or something." You held back an annoyed sigh.

"Like I said..." you finally replied, "you should beware of appearances."

They can be misleading sometimes, you kept to yourself.

It was true that you were usually a sweet, sensible girl, the ideal daughter who always smiled and never caused trouble. The pride and joy of your parents. But lately you had grown tired. Tired of following orders, of doing everything you were told without ever being able to listen to your heart. You were eager to get rid of this constant fear of disappointing your loved ones if you didn't live up to their expectations, and it seemed that life had given you the perfect opportunity to free yourself from all that.

"Is there something I should know?" the young man’s hand came to rest on the top of your thigh, his thumb delicately stroking the soft skin there, "some dark secret of yours, princess?". His almost mocking tone and the annoying nickname were enough to bring back that scorching heat in the pit of your stomach. The way he looked at you, at your breasts, made you think that he was affected by this sudden closeness, too. His gaze burned, almost as much as his fingers, which were now creeping dangerously up the hem of your shorts. And when you felt them graze the lace of your underwear in the hollow where your leg and hip met, you thought that maybe, just maybe, you'd bitten off more than you could chew.

But even though you were entering unfamiliar territory, something foreign to you, you refused to lose control and let him take what he wanted without saying a word. This wasn't your style. You always had a witty comeback ready to go. And you were going to show him.

Slowly, you moved forward a few inches on the bed to sit astride his very inviting lap, never taking your eyes off his lips. Your hands found his shoulders, and you could feel the hardness of his desire beneath your thighs. Gods, the sensation was divine. This was your doing. You and no one else’s. The sudden surge of power and dominance made your head spin. "Be very careful what you do now," his fingers settled on your hips to bring your chests a little closer together, his grip tight and bruising. "Or what?" you replied in an almost insolent, even provocative tone.

"Or we could end up doing something you might regret."

This was all a very bad idea, that much was true. Davos Blackwood was a very bad idea. But you didn't want to dwell on what the future might hold, let alone the potential consequences of your actions. All you knew was that you wanted more. More of his hands on your skin, more of his lips on yours, and more of him.

And it seemed that he, too, was eager to take it further.

His fingers made their way up from your waist to your chest, slipping under your tank top to brush his thumbs over the two little hardened buds. The ghost of a touch, really, but it was enough to make you moan. Your mouths were now just a few inches apart, your breaths mingling, but you didn't want to kiss him yet, choosing to prolong this delicious, exhilarating tension for a few minutes longer.

"Do you have any idea what you're doing to me?" he asked, his voice hoarse with desire. "Do you feel it?". He backed up his words with action, rolling his hips and planting a kiss right at the corner of your jaw. "You know what this is?" he added, rolling one of your nipples between his index finger and thumb, "what happens to a man when a woman behaves the way you do?". Of course I know, you wanted to say but the words stuck in your throat and only a moan managed to break through the barrier of your lips. You weren't stupid, you were perfectly aware of what happened in this kind of situation. But you'd never seen it, let alone touched it, and the theory was very different from the actual reality.

"Shut up," you replied at last, before planting a kiss on his lips. You didn't mean it, though. To be honest, you wished he would talk to you like that all night long, sending a wave of heat straight to your core with words alone. His tongue found yours, silencing your thoughts, and you wrapped your arms around his neck to keep from losing your footing. "Such a foul mouth," he said, smiling against your lips as he gave you time to breathe, "we'll see if you're still so talkative once I'm done with you."

The young man's hands found the bottom of your tank top and pulled it over your head, and soon it was your shorts that suffered the same fate, leaving you in nothing but your black lace panties. You suddenly felt exposed, lying there under that hungry gaze that regarded you like a precious gift, a prized possession. You waited eagerly for his next move.

Where was the bold young woman who had taken the lead just a few minutes earlier, the one so determined not to lose control? It seemed like she'd already vanished, replaced by some shy creature beneath his crude words and inappropriate touch.

"What are you going to do to me?" you tilted your head to the side to give him better access to the skin of your neck, which he was kissing with increasing fervor. "Nothing you won't like," he replied as he stood up to get rid of his t-shirt, which joined the pile of clothes at the foot of the bed. Your eyes couldn't help but wander over his toned torso dotted with dark hairs, your hands itching to touch him.

Soon enough, his lips found your jaw, then your neck, then the top of your chest, and you immediately shivered. The weight of his body lying on yours was delightful, comforting. "Please..." you whimpered as your hands settled on his shoulders, urging him to give you what you were so desperate for. You felt his fingers slide slowly against the skin of your belly, then lower, much lower, to play with the lace of your underwear, and your back arched almost reflexively. You wanted more, you needed more, and you were getting tired of waiting.

"Be patient, princess," he said, nibbling on the soft skin of your breast, his mouth soon wrapping around your hardened nipple. A grunt escaped you, and you weren't quite sure if it was from your frustration or the dominant tone he had just used. His hand slipped under the fabric of your panties to tease the top of your slit before brushing over your already soaked folds. It was annoying, really, the effect he was having on you with such a light touch. But it was heavenly, and you had decided to ignore the voice of reason for the night.

His index finger found the little pearl nestled at the apex of your center, and the contact felt like a delicious electric shock. You threw your head back, eyes closing, lips parting in a silent cry as he drew little circles around your most sensitive area. "Have you ever had anyone here?" he asked after a few seconds. When you didn't answer, he added: "I asked you a question, and I want you to answer me." There it was again, his commanding, almost controlling tone.

"N... no," you stammered as you opened your eyes again to meet his, "nobody." You suddenly felt like prey under his hungry gaze that devoured your trembling body. "Perfect," you heard, just before his fingers found your entrance, which was already clenching around nothing, "and here?".

The idea of being the first to enter you seemed to obsess him.

You nodded, this time from left to right, signifying that no, you had saved your virginity for the right man, the one who would know how to make you tremble under his ministrations, the one who would know how to make you beg for more, always more.

"Perfect," he repeated again, as the first knuckle of his index finger sank agonizingly slowly into you, teasing your inner walls. It was barely there, nothing really, and yet you already felt incredibly full. "You're so tight," he growled against the skin of your throat, "so warm too, you're going to feel amazing around me." He added a second knuckle and soon his finger was completely buried inside you. It felt good, and it felt right, but it didn't feel like enough. You wiggled your hips and it seemed as if Davos had understood your silent request immediately. "I need you to take another," he straightened on his left elbow to look at you with lust-blown pupils, "do you think you can do that for me?". Once again, you nodded your head in agreement, but this time it didn't seem to be enough for him. "Use your words, princess." You fought the urge to roll your eyes. "I... I can take more," you murmured right against his lips as you looked down between your thighs.

"Good girl," he said, his voice low and rough as you felt his middle finger pressing into you. He curled them both, brushing that spongy spot against your inner wall, and you threw your head back.

You dug your nails into his pale skin to stay anchored in the present as his thumb found your clit. But you knew you wouldn't last long. You could already feel tingles of pleasure buzzing through your body, and in the pit of your belly, the fires of delight burned a little more fiercely. You wanted to warn him, to tell him you were close, but he was quicker than you: "Come for me."

He didn't need to tell you a second time.

Soon, the wave of your orgasm washed over you.

It made your whole body shake with spasms, your climax exploding like fireworks behind your eyelids. Your lips crashed against his neck to stifle your final moan as your back arched under the intense sensation. The young man was merciful enough to give you a few seconds to recover before withdrawing his fingers, leaving you empty and frustrated. "Look at the mess you made," you heard him groan, "clean it up." His index and middle fingers brushed across your lips, which parted eagerly to welcome them into your warm mouth.

You timidly wrapped your tongue around them under his predatory gaze. The mere thought that you could taste yourself on your taste buds set your body on fire once again. It was indecent, inappropriate, and you probably should have been ashamed to be used like this, but you couldn't care less.

Maybe it was his fault, or maybe you'd just found each other despite everything that kept you apart.

His fingers left your mouth to wrap around your neck. But as he lay back on the mattress and guided you towards his lips, you resisted. Once again, you straddled his hips, only this time completely naked. He looked at you for a few seconds, a little confused, until you reached under the elastic of his underwear to slide it down his legs. This seemed to make him realize the extent of your intentions. His hard member jumped free and caught your eye. Standing proud with a mass of dark curls adorning its base, the sight alone made you salivate. "Let me thank you," you said, as your fingers gently traced its length. "I want to make you feel good too." You slowly moved between his legs to kiss his inner thighs.

You reached out tentatively and wrapped your fingers around his manhood. It felt heavy in your hand, massive and your index finger couldn't quite touch your thumb because it was so wide. You brought your lips to his crotch and, watching Davos from beneath your long lashes, planted a quick kiss on the head where it was already weeping for you. Your tongue traced a vein on the underside without ever breaking eye contact. He threw his head back, his lips parted to let out a muffled curse.

The rush of power you felt when you saw him so vulnerable under your touch was sinfully delicious.

You tilted your head to the side to plant a series of kisses all along his hardened manhood, your big innocent eyes still locked with his. There was a pause, a few tense seconds, before finally, finally, you moved your head forward to take him fully into your mouth. His big hand found refuge at the back of your skull, and you let him guide you completely.

The grip on your hair tightened, almost to the point of pain. "Breathe, through your nose," the young man ordered, but his voice was more urgent than before, his breathing becoming ragged from the growing pleasure. "You can do better than that." The fingers buried in your locks soon forced you to swallow him whole, your nose pressed against his pelvis, the unruly hair tickling your face. You could feel yourself drooling around him, the action messy. "Such a filthy girl," he said as his thumb came to caress the corner of your mouth, right where his member disappeared between your lips, "sucking my cock like a real whore." You let out an audible moan around his length in response to the foulness of his words.

But instead of disgusting you, it only served to encourage you.

You hollowed out your cheeks, still following the rhythm of his hand, which had resumed its place at the back of your head. He was big, and he filled your mouth in a way you hadn't experienced before, but you wanted to prove to him that you could satisfy him, that you could make him proud. Tears formed at the corners of your eyes, which he hastily wiped away with the tip of his free thumb. "Shh... you're doing so well," he praised you in a reassuring tone. You knew he was close to reaching his climax. His breathing had become labored, his movements erratic, and it was evident that you were causing him to lose his balance. But it seemed he didn't want to end it that quickly.

"Wait, not yet," he straightened into a sitting position, placing his hand on your cheek to force you back a few inches, "I'd hate to waste it." The implication made your cheeks flush, but you couldn't help but look forward to what would come next.

His hands came to rest on your waist, encouraging you to sit on his hips again, this time making his still impossibly hard manhood brush against your soaked cunt. The contact alone was enough to elicit a moan from you. His own fingers wrapped around his member as he guided it towards your narrow entrance.

And after what felt like an eternity, he finally thrust into you.

He stretched you to perfection, the foreign sensation a mixture of delicious pain and aching pleasure. "Fuck princess, you're tight," your head found refuge in the hollow of his neck, but you could hear that annoying smirk in his voice, "I'm going to ruin you." And oh how you couldn't wait for him to make good on his threats. "Move," you pleaded against the skin of his throat as you hesitantly moved your hips up and down to get that delicious friction you craved. He seemed hell-bent on teaching you self-restraint, even though you desperately wanted to see him lose control. He grabbed your waist in a firm grip, keeping you pressed against his hips and making you whine. "Did I say you could move?" he asked, kissing the side of your jaw. Once again that night, you'd annoyed him by not answering, and he repeated, "did I say you could move?".

It seems he was also trying to make you learn obedience, in addition to patience.

You didn't even have a chance to react before the young man used his grip on your waist to pull back almost completely, revealing his member glistening with your sticky juices before thrusting himself into you once more. His head was rubbing against that most delicious spot inside you, making your legs tremble with pure bliss. "Please, I..." You didn't even know what you were asking for as he moved back and forth continuously. You thought he'd ask you to speak again, but he was too caught up in pleasure and close to his release to be bothered by your pleas.

But even if he'd lost his rhythm, it was clear he was still determined to satisfy you. His thumb was back on your little pearl, tracing small circles around it, while inside you his length relentlessly pounded against your inner wall. You could feel yourself clenching around him, and the heat between your thighs was back with a fiercer intensity than ever. “I’m going to fill you up,” his teeth nibbled at the soft skin of your neck, marking it possessively, “I’m going to fill you up and you’re going to take everything I’m going to give you, feel me for days.” The moans that came out of your mouth were now completely incoherent, a confused jumble of yes and please.

Your climax hit hard and fast—stronger than the one Davos had offered you earlier that night. You dug your nails into his shoulders, leaving red half-moons as evidence of your forbidden actions. Your back arched off the mattress, pressing his body against yours as reality slipped through your fingers and a myriad of stars danced behind your eyelids. He followed you just a few seconds later, pouring into you with white ropes.

He stayed inside you for a few more moments, his length softening. But neither of you felt like moving, not when you were so comfortable, lying against each other, your limbs tangled. He placed a tender kiss on your forehead that made your heart clench. You still refused to think about the future and the problems that might arise from such a strong connection between the two of you. All that mattered for the moment was his skin against yours and your fingers in his hair.

"We should do that again," you murmured as you kissed his cheeks, his chin, his nose, "someday."

He smiled.

"We will," he said with confidence, "I'll make sure of that, princess."

The nickname made your stomach flutter with excitement.

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virgoilluminati · 2 months

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can u please write a jude fic where your in a talking stage and he comes over and you both make out for the first time 🤭

It's been a long time coming...

A/N: this is my first request in absolutely ages so tysm you have made my day ✨❣️ As I am now unemployed (😜✌️) i have a lot of free time before i head back to university. So please if anyone has any ideas lmk 🥹

Inspo: Jude and You have been close friends since high school, but after one very drunken night, you admit your feelings for him, right before he leaves for the euro's. When Jude arrives home, he has only one goal, to give you that kiss that you've been waiting for.

Oh, you had royally fucked up.

So royally fucked up that you probably shouldn’t leave the house for at least the next two days, perhaps a week, even a month.

You’d told your best friend that you liked him, in a sweaty club, the night before he was going to the Euros. With the drink loosening your tongue, you blurted it out without thinking. The look on his face said it all; he was stunned into silence.

You and Jude had known each other since high school. He was in the year above you, but you both shared a huge interest in football. While he played for the boys’ squad, you played for the girls’. You got really close in the last year of high school as he began prepping for the under-21s football team while you were preparing for university. You became each other’s anchor, someone you both could rely on, no matter how tough it got. You told each other absolutely everything. So when you blurted out that you liked him, it was as if you had shattered an unspoken rule.

You had been drunk. That was the justification you were giving. You didn’t know what you were thinking; you couldn’t control what was going through your head. You couldn’t face him, not now. The memory of his expression replayed in your mind, a painful reminder.

You had sent him one text message, mentioning nothing about the incident, just wishing him luck in the Euros. Maybe he’d just forget it even happened. After all, he was pretty drunk too.

You had spent all morning preoccupying yourself with your uni work, taking the dog out for a walk, cleaning your room… basically anything to distract from the impending apocalypse. But it was pointless; every other second, you would check the blue tick on the message, with a simple “read” underneath it.

Hey, I hope the head isn’t too sore from last night ahaha. Best of luck in the Euros, I’ll be screaming your name at the local, love ya. (Read)

His response came about three hours later. In that time, you had gone through all five stages of grief. First, Denial: you denied that you even told him, that it was a huge mistake. Anger: you were angry that no one stopped you, as it was an open secret between all of your friends but him, but they had let you blurt it out. Bargaining: maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, you know. You could just say it was a mistake or you didn’t remember. Depression: this would be the end of your friendship—that he’d no longer look at you the same way ever again. Acceptance: your life was doomed, and that was the end of it. However, when his response came, you hadn’t actually prepared yourself.

Yeah, my head’s fine ahaha, though I think you drank more than me in the end. Currently on the way to the airport, Trent says hi. Pretty nervous about the Euros, I can’t lie.

You sat there staring at the three dots, wondering what else he was thinking. You cringed at him mentioning your drunkenness. He not only knew but he must’ve remembered. Oh god, this was going to be awkward.

You didn’t respond, noticing the frequent three dots on his screen going rapidly on and off. Sighing, you attempted to make a joke, quickly sending back a response.

I’m sure Trent is feeling it right now ahaha, how many shots did he have last night again? Don’t be nervous, you’ll be ace!

His reply came almost instantly.

Enough to need a new liver, I’m sure. Thanks for the vote of confidence. We’re about to board, talk later?

You couldn’t help but feel relieved. He wasn’t addressing your confession at all. Maybe he really had chosen to forget about it. Or perhaps he was giving you a way out, a chance to pretend it never happened. Either way, you seized the opportunity.

Sure, have a safe flight! Catch you later.

With that, you put your phone down and took a deep breath. Maybe this wouldn’t ruin everything after all. For now, you’d focus on the positives: Jude was still talking to you, and you still had your friendship, even if it was a little shaken.

The next couple of days were a whirlwind of activity. Jude was swamped with training and media commitments, so your interactions were mostly confined to texts. Despite the busyness, he made sure to check in frequently, sending you updates and little messages that kept the connection alive.

After the Slovakia game, which they won in a nail-biting finish, you received a call from Jude. You could hear the adrenaline in his voice, the excitement of the victory still fresh.

“Hey,” he said, a little breathless. “Did you see the game?”

“Of course I did! You were amazing! That last-minute goal!" you replied, unable to hide the pride in your voice.

“Thanks. It felt good out there tonight. The fans were crazy. Nearly thought we were goners—"

"Nah, I knew you'd pull through."

"Really?" His voice sounded hopeful, as if he had more to say, but instead, he coughed and continued talking. "Uh, listen, there is something I need to talk to you about.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Okay, what’s up?”

“I haven’t stopped thinking about what you said."

"What I said? When?" you responded, your heart beating faster by the minute.

"The night before I went, about you liking me. I thought I could just put it aside and focus on the tournament, but… I can’t.”

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. “Jude…”

“No, let me finish,” he interrupted gently. “I’ve been trying to figure out how I feel. And the truth is, I like you too."

Tears pricked at your eyes. “Really?”

“Yeah. I hope you don't mind, but I told Dec and Trent, and after they completely humbled me, they made me realize—I think I've always had a bit of a thing for you. It’s just… I don’t want to mess this up. I don’t want to lose what we have.”

“You won’t,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “We’ll figure it out together. One step at a time.”

There was a moment of silence, then Jude let out a breath. “Okay. One step at a time. I like the sound of that.”

For the rest of the night, you talked about everything and nothing, letting the conversation flow naturally. The tension from the confession began to dissipate, replaced by a sense of hope and excitement.

The next game was against Switzerland, and you decided to go out to the pub to watch it with a couple of your pals. The place was buzzing with excitement, filled with fans donning jerseys and scarves, and the energy was infectious. As the match began, you found yourself nervously scanning the screen for Jude, your eyes automatically seeking him out every few seconds.

Your friends, of course, noticed.

“Honestly, if you stare any harder, you might burn a hole through the screen,” teased Sarah, nudging you playfully.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the blush that crept up your cheeks. “I’m just… making sure he’s doing okay.”

“Sure, just making sure,” Mark chimed in with a grin. “We all know you’re head over heels.”

“Guys, can we please just focus on the game?” you said, though you couldn’t help but smile.

As the match progressed, every time Jude touched the ball, your heart seemed to leap into your throat. You could hear your friends’ comments in the background, teasing you about how intently you were watching him.

“There he is again, Y/N! Are you taking notes on his every move?” Sarah laughed.

“Come on, give her a break. She’s just a supportive friend,” Mark added, though his tone was dripping with sarcasm.

You tried to ignore them, but the truth was, they weren’t entirely wrong. You were more invested in Jude’s performance than anything else. When he made a particularly brilliant pass, you couldn’t help but cheer louder than anyone else.

“Wow, you’ve got it bad,” Sarah remarked, shaking her head in amusement.

The game was intense, with both teams playing aggressively. Jude was in top form, making crucial plays and demonstrating why he was such an asset to the team. As the game neared its end, with the score tied, the tension in the pub was palpable.

Just then, your phone buzzed with a message from Jude.

Jude: Gaffer gave us 5 minutes, couldn't wait any longer to not text you.

You: What are you doing?! You're supposed to be on the pitch.

Jude: I think this is going to penalties, I feel it.

You quickly typed back, trying to infuse your message with as much confidence as you could muster.

You: Don’t worry, you’ve got this. I believe in you.

There was a brief pause before his next message came through.

Jude: Listen, how about this: if we win, I’ll take you out on a date.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you stared at the screen, rereading his words. A date. With Jude. Your heart was racing now for an entirely different reason.

You: Deal.

The penalties were agonizing to watch. Each kick, each save, each miss, had the entire pub reacting in unison—groans of despair, cheers of relief, gasps of anticipation. You were barely breathing, your eyes fixed on the screen as if willing the ball into the net with sheer force of will.

Jude stepped up to take his shot. The pub fell silent. You could almost hear your own heartbeat. He took a deep breath, ran up, and kicked. The ball sailed past the goalkeeper and into the net. The pub erupted in cheers, and you jumped up, your shout of triumph mingling with everyone else’s.

The penalties continued, and finally, it came down to Trent. The pressure was immense. If he scored, England would win.

The pub fell silent again as Trent prepared for his shot. You could feel the tension in the air, your heart pounding louder than ever. He took his position, focused, ran up, and kicked. The ball flew towards the goal, past the goalkeeper, and hit the back of the net.

The pub exploded in cheers. People were hugging, high-fiving, and celebrating. You couldn’t believe it. They had done it.

Your phone buzzed again.

Jude: We did it! Can’t believe it. Guess I owe you that date ;)

You couldn’t stop smiling, your heart soaring with pride and excitement.

You: You were amazing! We're so proud!! I can't wait x

Jude: Trust me, I’m looking forward to it. See you soon, Y/N.

You spent the rest of the night celebrating with your friends, the victory and Jude’s promise keeping your spirits high. Amidst all the revelry, one thing was clear: your relationship with Jude was about to take a new and thrilling turn.

The next few days were a whirlwind of emotions and excitement. Jude’s team had just secured a 2-1 victory against the Netherlands. The pub you were in was filled with joyous celebration and raucous cheers. You knew Jude would be over the moon, and you couldn’t wait to hear from him.

Soon enough, your phone rang with an incoming call from Jude. You stepped outside, away from the pub’s noise, to answer.

“Hey, Jude!” you answered, your voice bright with excitement. “Congrats on the win!”

“Y/N!” Jude’s voice was noticeably slurred, and you could hear the background noise of a lively celebration. “I can’t believe we did it! We actually won!”

“I know, it was amazing!” you said, smiling. “You were incredible out there.”

“Thanks!” Jude’s words were slightly jumbled. “I’m just so… so buzzed right now! Remember when we were kids and we’d dream about moments like this? It’s really happening!”

“I know, it’s like a dream come true,” you said warmly.

“And you were always… so pretty, you know? I never really understood why you’d hang out with me,” he continued, his voice full of affection. “Everyone loved you, and I was just this goofy football guy.”

You felt a blush rising. “Jude, it didn’t matter. We had so much fun together.”

“Really?” he asked, sounding genuinely surprised. “I always thought… thought you were too good for me. I was just this guy with a big dream, and you were this amazing person who could have been anywhere.”

“Well, I was where I wanted to be,” you said softly. “With you.”

Jude’s voice grew more tender. “I’ve always admired you, Y/N. Even back then, I was captivated by you. The way you carried yourself, the way you looked—it was like you had this light that drew me in. I was always amazed by how stunning you were, both inside and out.”

You could hear Bukayo’s voice faintly in the background. “Jude, mate, turn the phone off. You're pissed-"

Jude chuckled, though his tone remained affectionate. “I can’t help it, Bukayo! Y/N, you have no idea how incredible you are. I mean, just thinking about you—how beautiful you looked back then and how stunning you still are—drives me crazy.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his words. “Jude, you’re making me blush.”

“I’m just speaking the truth,” he said earnestly. “You’ve always been this amazing person, and I’ve been lucky to have you as a friend and now… maybe something more.”

You felt a warm flutter in your chest. “I’m really glad we’re sharing these moments together. It means a lot to me.”

Jude’s voice grew more serious, though still a bit tipsy. “If we keep winning, I want to make sure we celebrate together. I can’t imagine doing it without you.”

“I’d love that,” you said, smiling. “For now, enjoy the celebration. You’ve earned it.”

Jude’s laughter was warm and content. “Alright, I’ll let you go. But I’ll call you again soon, okay?”

“Sure thing. Enjoy the rest of your night, Jude,” you said.

As you ended the call, you couldn’t help but smile. Jude’s heartfelt, tipsy confessions and the sound of his celebration had deepened your connection, making you realize just how much you both meant to each other. The future felt full of promise, and you were excited to see where this new chapter would lead.

When England lost 2-1 to Spain, the crushing disappointment was felt by everyone, especially Jude. As he and the team made their way back, he couldn't shake the feeling of defeat.

You, back home, had been anxiously awaiting any word from him. After a few hours, you decided to check in, hoping he was doing okay.

You: Hey Jude, are you alright? Just wanted to check in.

A few minutes later, your phone buzzed with a message from Jude. The text was brief, but the words were heavy with the weight of the loss.

Jude: Not great, honestly. It's been a rough night.

You felt a pang of sadness reading his message.

You could picture him, lost in thought, longing for comfort.

You: I'm so sorry, Jude. I wish I could be there with you too. You wanna hang out tomorrow? Watch a crappy horror movie and crash on my sofa?

The reply came back quickly.

Jude: Sure. I could use a little cheer up. I'd better go, journalists want a chat before we board.

You stared at the phone, hoping your words brought him some measure of comfort. You knew how much this loss meant to him, and how hard he had worked for this moment. The idea of him being alone in his thoughts broke your heart a little more.

You wanted to do something special for him, something that would show him just how much you cared. An idea started to form in your mind, and you sprang into action.

First, you pulled out his favorite hoodie from the closet. It was slightly oversized on you, but it felt like a warm hug. You wore it while you tidied up the apartment, making sure everything was perfect for when he got home.

Then, you went into the kitchen to start cooking his favorite meal. The process was therapeutic, each stir of the pot a way to channel your nervous energy. As the aromas filled the room, you felt a little more at peace, knowing that you were doing something to help him, even from afar.

As the hours ticked by, you kept checking your phone, hoping for any update on his flight. Finally, a message popped up.

Jude: Just landed. See you soon

Your heart skipped a beat. You quickly finished setting the table, dimming the lights to create a cozy atmosphere. You lit a few candles, their soft glow adding a touch of warmth to the room.

When you heard the key in the lock, you rushed to the door, your heart pounding with anticipation. As the door opened, there he was, looking exhausted but so incredibly relieved to see you.

Without a word, he dropped his bags and pulled you into a tight embrace. You held him close, feeling the tension slowly drain from his body as he buried his face in your neck.

"I missed you so much," he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion.

"I missed you too, Jude," you replied softly, running your fingers through his hair. "I'm so glad you're home."

He pulled back slightly to look at you, his eyes filled with gratitude. "You have no idea how much this means to me. Thank you."

You smiled, cupping his face in your hands. "Come on, I made your favorite dinner. Let's sit down and talk about everything."

Later on, after you had let him get everything off his chest, you decided to watch a movie, something that would probably become background noise. As the movie played, you and Jude sat side by side on the couch, the tension between you that seemed to dance in time with the flickering images. You could feel the heat of his body next to yours, and every time your arms or legs brushed, a jolt of electricity shot through you.

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye.

He was staring at the screen, but you could tell his mind was elsewhere. The furrow in his brow, the way his jaw tightened, the constant fidgeting-he was still wrestling with the aftermath of the game.

You wished there was something you could do to ease his mind.

As if sensing your thoughts, he turned to you, his eyes softening. "I'm sorry I've been a grumpy sod."

You smiled, feeling a flutter in your chest. "No, don't be. I'm your friend!" You smirk a little as you made eye contact with him for the first time that night. "I'm just glad you're here."

The movie continued, but the air between you grew thicker with unspoken words and emotions.

"Listen. About what I said-"

"We don't have too-"

"No we should! Because, i know I've been swept up with all of the euro's but- I meant what i said. I like you."

"I like you too."

You could feel his gaze lingering on you more frequently, and each time you met his eyes, it was like a silent conversation passed between you.

"Do you remember the last time we watched a movie together?" he asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

You chuckled softly. "Yeah, you fell asleep halfway through."

He grinned, the first genuine smile you'd seen from him all night. "I was exhausted. You have a way of making me feel very relaxed. Always have done."

"It's a very good thing," he replied, his voice low.

You felt a shiver run down your spine at the intensity in his eyes. The movie, now a distant background noise, was all but forgotten. The distance between you seemed to shrink with each passing second.

"Jude..." you began, but the words caught in your throat. "I-." His eyes looked up and down at your lips as you settled into his embrace. He looks for any uncertainty before he continues.

"You make me feel seen. Like I can't hide anything from you. It's scary really-"

"Is that so-" you smile, your eyes casting over his lips.

"Mhmm. You make me such a good person-"

"Jude, just kiss me already." You laugh. He smiles instinctively,

He reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against your cheek. "Can I...?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, unable to form a coherent response.

Your heart pounded in your chest as he leaned in, his breath warm against your skin. The world seemed to hold its breath as your lips finally met in a soft, tentative kiss.

It was like a spark igniting a fire, the kiss quickly deepening with a hunger that had been building all night. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss grew more intense.

You responded in kind, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pressed against him, the kiss growing more intense. His lips were insistent, exploring yours with a desperate need. You could feel his heartbeat against your chest, mirroring your own racing pulse.

Jude's hands roamed, tracing the curve of your back, sending shivers down your spine. Your skin felt electrified wherever he touched, each caress igniting a new wave of desire. You gasped as his lips left yours, trailing hot kisses down your neck, nibbling and sucking gently at the sensitive skin.

"Jude," you moaned softly, your fingers tightening in his hair. He groaned in response, the sound vibrating against your throat as he continued his exploration, his hands slipping under your shirt to caress the bare skin of your back.

Your breath hitched when his lips found the hollow of your collarbone, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin. You arched into him, your body responding instinctively to his touch. The heat between you was almost unbearable, a consuming fire that threatened to engulf you both.

When you finally broke apart, gasping for breath, you looked into his eyes and couldn't help but smile. "Do you know how long l've wanted to do that?" you whispered, your voice filled with a mix of relief and desire.

Jude chuckled, resting his forehead against yours.

"Probably as long as I have," he replied, his breath warm against your lips.

You both knew this was just the beginning, but for now, the world outside could wait. All that mattered was the two of you, tangled in each other's arms, finally giving in to the desire that had been simmering between you for so long.

#fanfiction #jude bellingham #leah williamson #womens world cup #england football #englandwomensfootball #womens football #football fanfic #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x you #judebellingham x footballreader #jude bellingham fanfic #judebellingham #Jude Bellingham fanfiction #euro 2024 #englandfootball #fanfic #footballer x reader #football imagine

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sehya · 6 months

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✧˖°. ࣪𖤐 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫

✉ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛɪᴛʟᴇ ꜱᴀʏꜱ.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫(𝐬): 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 × 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Loneliness has accompanied Lucifer for years. Year after another, his company was filled with inanimate objects with neither the ability to speak, move or feel. While he could manipulate the actions of the objects, it doesn’t change the fact that he has no real company to speak of.

So it felt strange when there was suddenly someone sitting on the same table set up for a tea party that he normally shares with just a group of rubber ducks.

The feeling was….phenomenal.

Lucifer doesn’t even know why you’re tolerating his ramblings. He wonders if it’s out of politeness, but he dismissed the idea halfway upon witnessing the way your eyes shine with interest, the way your eyebrows moved depending on what he’s talking about and the small smile hanging firmly on your delicate face. He has your full attention and for Lucifer, he feels happy being the sole focus of your attentiveness. Heck, he’d take your hums and nods over other people’s company.

“You know…” Lucifer smiled, cheek resting on his palm as he leaned against the table with eyes never leaving yours even for a second. “I have to thank you for helping me pack. It’d be a totally boring process without you.”

Your eyes softened, placing down the tea cup slowly before you reach out and held his hand, smiling. “Anything for you.”

Lucifer grin and giggled, completely enamoured with your kindness and understanding. It took so much from him to let go of his hesitations and apprehensions, too scared to enter yet another relationship after his heart suffered from the first. Now, however, he was glad he did.

You’re like the brightest of star that burned down his walls and willingly fell in his hands, melting his heart and mending it anew. Lucifer loves the fact that you don’t mind his too much chatter, and even more when you listened with such genuine interest.

“I mostly stayed here, so the things in my room isn’t as much as the things in here. I hope you don’t mind helping me out in unpacking, too. I mean…If that’s alright with you, ahaha. I don’t want to take up too much of your time just in case you have something to do.”

That's a lie.

If he could, Lucifer would like──no, he would love to have all the time you could possibly give him.

“Oh, right, before I forgot. Remember when you mentioned about the duckies that looks like us, wellllll…” Lucifer stood up, and without letting for of your hand, he summoned a box and placed it in front of you, opening it with an excited grin. “Ta-da!~ A personally made ones by the hands of the big boss of hell. Ah-hm, what do you think?”

Lucifer watched with a touch of nervousness despite the big grin on his face as your eyes widened, staring at the pair of rubber ducks that has obvious traits to you both.

Then he saw your face erupted in red. Your eyes were staring at his gift. “You…really made it?”

It was just a random comment.

Lucifer giggled, “I made it for you.”

“You made it for me.” You whispered, feeling extremely touched. “You mean…these are for me? I can keep them both?”

Lucifer saw your eyes brightened, picking up the rubber duck that looks like him with such gentleness, as though it’s made of porcelain that could easily break. His breath hitched when you turned to him, then back to the rubber duck, then back at him, then you smiled at him.

“Lucifer…”

“Yes?” he answered hoarsely upon noticing your eyes goes lower. He somehow has an inkling what you’re going say.

“Can I kiss you?”

Lucifer grinned, he was right. Licking his lips in anticipation, he answered. “I, yeah, of course. You always can.”

With a smile, Lucifer felt your gentle hand on his face as you stood up to capture his lips in a gentle kiss before pulling away, smiling softly as you ask. “They look amazing, our little figurines. I'd like to hear their little quirks, I'm sure you did something like that back-flipping one that spits fire. Can you tell me about it?”

Lucifer was put in a daydream by your kiss, but upon hearing your words, his eyes lit up as held the hand on his cheek, squeezing it a bit. “Oh boy, how’d you know I did a little something? You’re in for a lot of talking, because trust me, these two have lotsss of amazing little quirks. Be ready to waste your time on listening to my chitter-chatter.”

The rise in the corner of your lips was enough to tell Lucifer you don’t mind and that you’ll spent however much time needed just to listen to everything he wants to say, and that, for Lucifer, is something he would forever be thankful for.

✧˖°. ࣪𖤐 𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫

✉ Hope you enjoyed ᥫ᭡

#hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel #hazbin x reader #lucifer #lucifer morningstar × reader #lucifer morningstar #fluff #xreader #hazbin lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer fluff

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wroxanym · 1 year

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Heyyy this is my first headcanon post on Adrien Agreste, please forgive me for the mistakes english is not my mother tongue

Disclaimer: Nothing except lots of love I guess ahaha.

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊ To be in a relationship with Adrien Agreste would include:

Relaxing moments chatting with him in the playground.

Study sessions for exams that often end up with him giving you lots of hugs.

"I really wanted to study Adrien!

- Hush love, we'll study next time, I just want to rest..." Who could resist? He is so perfect.

Get ready to have lots of dates in museums, he loves it.

Did I mention he loves to cuddle? He doesn't like to make a lot of physical gestures with you in public because he's quite shy about it, but once he's alone it's a different story! So don't get me wrong, he's always been lonely since he was little and he really sees you as the person who's brightened up his dark world.

He really likes to make jokes, so be prepared to be really annoyed, of course he'll apologise straight away and call you a killjoy until you give him a pat on the back.

"Why did you take my picture?

- You're beautiful, my angel".

OMG THESE NICKNAMES >>>>>

He'll defend you against Lila and Chloe's mockery, believe me, he's a loyal boyfriend who'll do anything for you.

He's jealous, very jealous. To him you're the most precious and beautiful thing in the world, so when he sees you very close to someone...

...Of course he'll let you talk to whoever you want, only he'll insist (a bit a lot) that you're in a relationship.

PLEASE TAKE CARE OF HIM HE DESERVES THE WORLD <33

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rrxnjun · 1 year

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where do broken hearts go? [lmk]

you know what they say about past lovers that can remain just as friends - either they're still in love with each other, or they never were in the first place.

pairing: mark lee x fem! reader

genre: exes to lovers. angst, fluff.

wc: 12k (11.926)

warnings: mention of sex, weed and alcohol, heartbreak, swearing, park jihoon of treasure is one sassy bitch and also accidentally somehow the main character of this fanfic plz dont @ me, inconsistent writing style bc i took 3 months and 3 depressive episodes to finish this fic

playlist: where do broken hearts go - one direction / too good to say goodbye - bruno mars / everytime - ariana grande / closer - waterparks / tornado warnings - sabrina carpenter / survive the night - the boyz

a/n: hey do some of you still remember me..... AHAHA tell a friend to tell a friend rrxnjun is BACK! this fic isn't the ideal vision i had in my mind but we are working on not being so hard on ourselves with our writing so! here we are. i still kind of like it :,)

When you walk up to your best friend’s apartment one day with a tub of ice cream under your arm and the biggest pout on your face, Park Jihoon makes a complete list of things you should do to get over your failed relationship with Mark Lee. And while you think your dear friend has some psychopathic tendencies sometimes, you’d say the list is actually pretty reasonable of him.

There’s something about the five simple steps that makes you wonder if it’s really as easy as Jihoon makes it sound. And while you doubt it– because the pinging pain in your heart makes it seem like the heartbreak is truly going to kill you in a few minutes if you don’t do something about it– you give it a try, because come on… you’d do anything to not feel like this ever again.

Step one – cry it out.

“He was a cunt anyway,” Jihoon mutters as he steps into the living room with two spoons in his hands, throwing one of them to you– while almost managing to hit you in the middle of your forehead in the process, adding a concussion to the mix of problems you have going on right now– and you find yourself furrowing your brows at his hateful comment.

“Why’d you say that?”

“Well, as your best friend, I’m supposed to be on your side, no?” he says as he takes a seat on the sofa next to you, watching as you wrap one of the thick blankets you got for the male around your figure– you bought it mainly for yourself, because his apartment is cold as a freezer and you knew he wouldn’t buy one for you to use in the first place– and shrugs. “Besides, he broke your heart, and any male who does that is a cunt in my eyes.”

“I broke up with him,” you mourn, “so I broke my own heart,” you snicker, despair fully filling you up from the inside– fitting everywhere into your lungs and choking you up from how bad you truly feel. Now, this isn’t your first breakup– you’ve had your fair share of boyfriends in high school (in your baddie era, as Jihoon called it), but Choi Yeonjun from Maths class and Jung Woonyoung, the guy you dated for a total of 2 months over the summer break before he moved away, weren’t exactly boys you found yourself falling in love with. Sure, you liked them, you kissed them and went on dates with them– hell, you even hooked up with Yeonjun once before you realized the relationship truly wasn’t for you– but no one managed to cave into your heart just as much as Mark Lee, your first college boyfriend did.

“But you sure had a reason for it, come on!” Jihoon huffs, taking the tub of ice cream from your hands and opening it for you, since you’ve gotten quite weak from the lack of sleep and nutritions ever since the break up, hands clammy and not cooperating. “You don’t just break up with someone to break your own heart. He did that, that’s why you said goodbye to him,” he says before sitting the enormous tub of ice cream between your two bodies, nudging you to dig into the frozen delicacy.

“Yeah, but–”

“No buts, young lady. We are here to make you forget you ever even dated Mark Lee, so open up, eat the ice cream and focus your attention on Titanic so you can finally cry it out,” he says, and by the tone of his voice, you’d think he’s angry with you. Jihoon has this aura around him that makes you think he’s always at least a little annoyed at everything– but he told you to not mind it and that it’s just his sassy bitch attitude.

He does have a point, though. You broke up with Mark because he broke your heart first– there was no other reason for it. If it was something minor, something small, you were sure you could work on it. You have, numerous of times before, brought up something and had a mature conversation about it– something you always so admired about Mark, being so cautious and understanding when navigating problems in the relationship– but when you bring up the same thing over and over, and it never gets fixed despite him telling you he’ll try harder next time, you think you’re allowed to feel a little heartbroken at his nonexistent efforts. And that’s exactly why you decided to quit the relationship– after a while, you felt like you were putting in more effort than he was, effectively making you feel like he’s not even that interested in dating you in the first place.

First, he just told you he was forgetful. He forgot he promised to pick you up from class one day– and you said that it’s okay, he is busy, after all– and it was the first time it happened, so you didn’t really mind that much, truly. Then, he forgot about the date you scheduled– but it was fine, because you didn’t have reservations anyway, you could change the day to any other day of the week, after all. He kept forgetting the stuff you told him in between the conversations you shared– and it was small things, you understand, but sometimes, you wondered if he was ever really listening to you at all.

Forgetful soon turns not interested in your eyes, and when he doesn’t call you in the evening like he promised he would, when he doesn’t show up to the party you invited him to, because he forgot it was that day, you’re one step closer to calling it quits, because each and every one of these situations sends a sharp pain into your stomach. The last straw was just last week, though– and realistically, it was an important day, as much that you thought the day is somehow gonna fix everything, but the truth is somewhere completely else as Mark Lee forgets about your one year anniversary and never shows up at your doorstep for the dinner you prepared for the two of you like he promised he would.

And it doesn’t click in him two days after either– you don’t even get a text. He got so forgetful over time that he forgot about you completely, and that’s when you took an uber to his place and broke up with him for good.

And even though the breakup was the most painful thing you’ve ever felt yourself go through, Jihoon is right– you’re not the one that broke your own heart. Mark Lee did that for you many times before, and this was just the breaking point.

“Fucking hell, you bought cookies and cream again?” Jihoon huffs when he takes another spoonful of the ice cream into his mouth, eyebrows furrowing at the sweet taste. Looking at him from the corner of your eye, you wipe your left cheek as you hum, immune to his nagging by now.

“You know I hate cookies and cream!”

“You know, Hoon, I bought this for myself. When you’re the one that’s heartbroken, we’ll share your favorite ice cream flavor instead,” you mumble, munching on the coldness on your tongue, sniffling a little when your eyes avert to the TV screen.

And after that, the teasing from your best friend’s side stops. Maybe it’s just because he hates to see you cry– and he rarely gets the chance, if you’re being honest, since you’re pretty good at handling your emotions– but you secretly know that it’s because when he looks back at the TV screen in front of the two of you, the sad part of the movie hasn’t even started yet and the tears are not the result of the movie, but of your own thoughts instead.

Step two – give him back all of his stuff and the stuff he’s given you that reminds you of him. Demand that he does the same.

Now, step two was a thing most couples do when they break up. Realistically, it makes sense– you wouldn’t want stuff that’s not yours just laying around, and also, it’s just bound to remind you of the person you lost. Naturally, you’d want to return it.

“Why does he have to return my things as well?” you mutter under your breath as Jihoon helps you fold all Mark’s hoodies into a cardboard box, alongside with wrapping the little things your ex boyfriend made out of ceramic for you in tissue paper like you asked him to– even though he complained and said that it shouldn’t matter to you if they break, because you are the heartbroken one– but you held those little things too close to your heart to let them get damaged in the first place.

“Because that’s how it works,” Jihoon hums, watching as you throw another one of Mark’s shirts onto the top of his head, shielding his vision. “What, you don’t want your stuff back?”

“I mean…” you mumble, deeply considering of the fact that the thought of getting your stuff back didn’t even cross your mind until now, before you realize your favorite pair of socks is thrown somewhere in Mark’s drawers– the blue ones with peaches on them– and you suddenly have the revelation that while you don’t necessarily need the stuff back, you’d love to wear those socks again. “I guess…” you note as you walk over to Jihoon and take a glance into the full cardboard box, looking over the stuff and chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“It’s like witchcraft, y’know,” Jihoon points out, looking at you with fierce eyes mirroring the stupid idea that just flashed through his brain, “if you don’t exchange the things, a piece of you is still kept at his apartment and you won’t be able to move on.”

And again, Park Jihoon does have psychopathic tendencies, but he may be onto something here. So you listen to him as you nod along and close the cardboard box, ready to drive over to Mark Lee’s apartment and drop off the things you’ve collected from him for the past year. The box includes all of the clothes messily scattered across your drawers and your closet, the picture frame of you two together that you always had on your night stand, the ceramic bowls and a little tiger sculpture he made for you when he took a pottery class with his friend Renjun, and the lost guitar pics you found under your bed and at the very top of your bookshelf from when he used to bring his guitar along and play you songs on rainy afternoons. The only things of Mark’s that you kept were the love letter he gave you for your birthday and the USB with his cover of Justin Bieber’s Off my face on it that he shyly gifted to you on one of your dates; but you would never tell Jihoon that in fear of him getting rid of those most precious memories for you.

It’s good to let go, but you don’t think you’re wrong for wanting to keep something to remind you of the good times. The times you still felt loved by Mark.

“Off we go,” you say, standing up and bringing the box towards your front door, your best friend at your feet. He promised to drive you to Mark’s place– you think he’s worried about you meeting your ex-boyfriend face to face for the first time since the break up, but he said it’s because you’re too broke to Uber all the time, efficiently throwing all the considerate thoughts you were accrediting him out the window– and after a few minutes of the drive, you find yourself standing on the doorstep of Mark Lee's apartment.

Taking a deep breath in and out, almost chickening out with the flood of thoughts and excuses you could say to Jihoon when you come back to his car with the box still in your hands– sayings like “he wasn’t home” or “he didn’t want those back”, the latter stupider than the first– you decide to face your problems head-on and finally knock on the mahogany door, waiting for Mark to answer. And he does– of course he does, because he’s always home, and as his ex-girlfriend of one year, you're painfully aware of the fact– but when that happens, you feel your heart falling all the way down to your stomach, crushing you and suddenly making it hard for you to breathe.

“Um… hi,” he greets you, voice a little groggy, as if he hasn’t spoken in a while– and when you meet his eyes, the deep chocolate orbs you always found yourself admiring and writing silent odes to in your head, you quickly glance away in fear of staring into them for too long and making decisions you wouldn’t like to make.

“Hi,” you awkwardly greet back, clearing your throat and moving a little in your place, shifting the weight from one foot to the other. You're surprised you're able to keep up with the conversation, thoughts running in your brain faster than you can comprehend them, heartbeat ringing in your ears from the unexpected anxiety. Maybe Jihoon was right and you should've taken a shot before coming here– at least you'd have more courage and social skills clearly needed for this kind of interaction. “I… brought you back your things,” you say, finally looking up at the male and chewing on your lips, letting out an awkward, tense laugh when he stares at you with an empty look, “figured you’d want them back,” you add, watching as the male opens his mouth and closes it in what seems to be shock before he presses his lips tightly together and nods at you.

“Uh, yeah,” he says, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as he watches you clumsily hold up the cardboard box to him, ready to leave his stuff there with him and escape as fast as you can, not really minding how you'll get back to Jihoon's car– if jumping down the window of the entrance hall is the fastest option, you're ready to get to it. The truth is, everything is starting to get a little too hard to bear– his familiar scent filling your nose, the hoodie he wore to your first date enveloping his figure, his messy hair reminding you of the many times you brushed your fingers through it in attempts to smooth it down. It’s only been two weeks since you last saw him, but it was starting to feel as if you forgot about him already and were now relearning all the things you once fell in love with again, looking at him in the same light, yet noticing him and all the small details a little bit differently. “Thanks, I… I actually, uh… I have your stuff here too, so if you want it back I’ll– I can just–”

“Y-yeah,” you nod, almost a little too eagerly, “that would be… cool,” you say, trying hard to ignore the fact that he had your stuff packed too, intending to give it to you, and the crashing reality that comes with it, telling you he was prepared to do this before you were and how it’s making you feel kind of shitty.

Mark moves further into the apartment, the sound of him dropping the box to the floor filling your ears before he’s back at the door in no time, a similar cardboard box in his hands that he offers to you with a tense smile on his face. “Wanted to bring it around so I had an excuse to see you, but you, uh… beat me to it, I guess…”

Looking at him as you take the box out of his hands, gaze as if to tell him not to say such words to you when you’re still so fragile to his effect, you only nod and mutter out a simple “Thanks,” before you turn on your heel and intend to take the stairs back down.

“I’ll… see you around, then?” Mark calls after you as you take the first step out– something about it making you feel like it’s the first step out of his life, in a way– and you only nod, because one, you truly don’t know how else to reply to this question, and two, you really, really don’t know if you’ll ever see him again, but you can't bring yourself to say it to his face. Somehow, it would feel like torture to admit it– and you're not prepared for that reality just yet.

Rushing outside and getting into Jihoon's car, you almost feel like you’re on the verge of breaking, and when the male asks you how it went as he’s reversing out of the parking lot, you only bid him a one-word reply before you look through the box on your way home, too impatient to stay back from the memories.

And Jihoon didn’t really think this one through, because the fact that you gave Mark back the things that reminded you of him meant that he did the same, and now all the things you brought along to Mark’s apartment were in the cardboard box, all stained with countless memories and feelings attached to each and every single thing. The artwork you made for him, the little heart-shaped keychain you gave him for his birthday, the plant you gave him that was now long dead and dried out– those were once your stuff, but all in this world with the intention of love being sent out through them to your now ex-lover, and the fact that they’re in your possession again instead of his is not making letting go of Mark any easier.

And maybe Mark was right and he truly was forgetful, because as you rummage through the contains of the box, while you find out your favorite blue socks are nowhere to be seen, surely still buried somewhere in the drawers of his closet, obliterated out of his memory, there’s a gray hoodie sitting at the bottom and it’s surely not yours– it’s his and it was always your favorite, and you always used to wear it at his place when you got cold or when you just really wanted to smell his cologne, and you suddenly don't know if it's presence in the box slipped his mind or if he truly left it there on purpose.

Couldn’t he forget about that too?

Step three – block his number.

The third step comes into place after you accidentally slip out to Jihoon about the phone call you get on a Friday night– more like two hours into Saturday already– and now, most of all, you must admit that your best friend might be right about his advice.

Your phone starts ringing at 2:11 AM, and while you weren’t sleeping– you’ve been having some trouble with dozing off without being overbeared with thoughts lately– the name flashing on your screen shocks you for more reasons than one.

Mark Lee calls you, three weeks after your breakup, in the middle of the night. You haven’t spoken since the time he gave you back your stuff, and even though you’ve done quite a bit of stalking on his social media, you have no news of him or his whereabouts. Naturally, a call from him in the middle of the night startles you and shakes you to the core. He has no reason to call you, so your brain does the math and concludes there must be an emergency– and god knows that even after being hurt by him, you could never ignore him and leave him hanging in a state of need.

So you pick up– with shaky hands and a raging heartbeat, expecting the worst. Listening to the other side of the line, you take a deep breath in and out, bracing yourself for the impact of the words you’re going to hear. The voice on the other side is laced with haziness and his tone is almost a little tired– worn out, even– when he finally greets you from wherever he is.

“Hi,” Mark says, and for a second, your heartbeat steadies itself and the world stops spinning– he sounds okay, and for a moment, you’re grateful to hear his voice.

Humming, as if to collect your thoughts, you clear your throat before you offer him an answer. “Hello,” you greet, “what’s- what’s up?”

“Just wanted to hear your voice,” he says, almost a little abruptly to your question. He doesn't overthink his answer and he doesn't give himself time to think if it's a good idea or not– he just blurts it out and now it's your problem to deal with, when it's there, out in the open. Your palms get sweaty and you start to lose feeling in your fingertips, making you take a few seconds to yourself to process the situation before you decide to finally answer to the strange sentence.

“It’s late, Mark,” you mumble, and you involuntarily wonder if the sentence doesn’t have double meaning– it's too late for anyone to call at this hour, and at the same time, it’s been weeks since your ex boyfriend lost the privilege of listening to your voice when he can’t sleep in the middle of the night whenever he feels like it– and it’s now too late to do anything about it or make it any easier to deal with.

“Shit, sorry,” he chuckles to himself, and you suddenly recognise the laziness in his voice to be the effect of his and his best friend Hyuck’s Friday endeavors; the sweet coating of his voice being the effect of none other than the momentary bliss that comes with the relaxation of his body and mind when he's high. “Didn’t realize,” he concludes, making you shake your head at him in disbelief– not really mattering that he can’t see you in the act.

“‘s okay,” you mumble– and in your perfect reality, you hang up the phone now. In your perfect reality, you connect it to your charger and close your eyes, calling it a night. You fall asleep with no thoughts rummaging through your brain and wake up in the morning to a new sunny day, ready to take on the responsibilities of what’s to come, having productive days ended with smiles and a hot dinner you make for yourself just because you feel like it. In your perfect reality, you protect your own heart. This is not your perfect reality, though– and that’s why you stay on the line, listening to Mark ramble on the other side of the phone, intoxicated and slightly out of it. You wonder if he’ll remember calling you when he wakes up tomorrow. You wonder if he’ll regret it, or if he’ll just shrug his shoulders at the fact and go on with his day, not really paying you much thought when he’s sober.

“I was with Hyuck just now,” he says, and you hear the rustling of his sheets on the other side of the line, making you wonder if he’s washed up and ready for bed, “and– and I remembered how we all used to hang out together, y’know… you with us all– you always clicked with my friends and it was so cool and stuff… and I realized, right, they’re not as funny when you’re not around… but anyways… Jeno’s girlfriend asked about you, ‘cause she didn’t know…and telling her felt so silly, ‘cause they all kept looking at me and I knew they were pitying me, but it was my fault in the first place–”

“Mark–”

“No, it’s true. And it’s cool, I don’t– I don’t blame you, or anything. I just… I dunno, I guess it got me wondering…”

The line goes silent on the other side, and you settle into your own bed, giving him time to continue. When he doesn’t say anything for a long time, you wonder if he’s fallen asleep.

“Mark?”

“Hm?”

“You still there?”

“Yeah. How was your day?” he asks, tone of voice casual as ever, as if he’s forgotten about all the words he’s told you up until now– as if it’s not 2 AM and both of your hearts aren’t breaking at the sound of each other’s voice on the other side of the line.

“It… it was okay, I guess,” you say nonetheless, too hopeless to find a way to end the conversation before he does.

“That’s good to hear,” he says, sighing, “that’s… awesome. You still taking those yoga classes on Mondays?” he asks, and you snicker to yourself– because what kind of question even is that? Who asks that on a late night call, when there are more important things you two need to talk about?

“Yeah,” you lie, still. You haven’t been since the breakup.

“That’s great. Wouldn’t want you to… y’know,” he laughs to himself, “be too sad over this… ‘t was for the better, after all.”

You hear yourself hum– the noise way more stable than your actual words ever could be– and you find yourself feeling silly in the conversation, lying to your ex boyfriend through your teeth; because at the end of the day, you don’t want him to worry about you– because it seems to be the case that he is. And it’s stupid, because he hurt you and you shouldn’t care, maybe you should’ve even show him that you’re heartbroken and that he is the reason behind your pain and the way your life is falling apart, bit by bit, but you don’t find it in you to be so cold and heartless. At the end of the day, you still care about Mark and there’s nothing you could do about it. Turns out that breaking up with him doesn’t magically make the feelings go away– and you knew that, but now you have proof.

“What were you saying before, by the way? You… trailed off at the end,” you say, reminding him of his previous words.

“Oh, that,” he snickers into the microphone again, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he twists and turns in the sheets, “don’t worry about it. It was selfish of me.”

It was selfish of him to call in the first place. But you won’t tell him that.

“What was it?”

“It’s just… I was wondering if I lost you forever, y’know… if there was a chance we could ever…” he trails off again, but this time, you don’t bug him to complete it. You’re not stupid– you know the implication of his words. You’ve known him for a long time, after all– maybe you should’ve predicted this when you picked up the call.

“I mean…” you hum, “you didn’t lose me completely, if that’s– if that’s what’s keeping you up at night. We’re still friends, aren’t we?” you say, and in the corner of your brain, you can’t even believe the words yourself– but if it was selfish of him to call, you think it’s okay for you to selfishly fill both of you with empty promises, just for the sake of not breaking your heart even further.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, “that’s– …I’m glad.”

The line’s silent after that, and you wonder if you two have used up the list of words to say to each other this time, if there’s truly no other answer at the end of this conversation. When the situation gets too much for you to bear, the heaviness finally settling on your shoulders and your chest, you finally find the courage to sniffle out a quiet goodbye.

“Good night, Mark.”

“G’night,” he drags out, mind still cloudy. “Love you,” spills out from his tongue, like a bad habit.

He ends the call before you get to say it back. Maybe that’s for the better.

And the truth is, you should’ve really listened to Park Jihoon and blocked Mark’s number after this encounter. But you didn’t– you’re too weak for Mark’s sweet words, finding yourself still hanging on to his saccharine voice and the muffled ramble he has reserved for you only every time he gets high and loses all self-control before calling you on Friday nights selfishly demanding your attention, somehow falling for him like a teenager over and over again despite promising yourself you're gonna move on for real now.

Step four – date someone new.

“So…” Jihoon starts one day, eyes glued to your skull like laser beams, the tone of his voice so incomprehensible you think he’s going to scold you for the actions of your previous days– even though you haven't told him about the midnight calls with Mark and so if he's not going through your phone, he has no way of knowing. Tense and nervous, still, knowing that the impact of his words could either heal you or cut you open like a knife– damn him for always being so brutally honest, no matter how soft his heart is for you– you smile at him with tight lips, crossing your arms on your chest in defense.

“So…?”

A nervous laugh almost escapes your throat. If Jihoon wasn’t suspicious of you before, he surely is now– or he just finds you strange by the way he furrows his brows at you and scans you up and down, taking a second for himself before he sighs and seemingly decides to drop the weird way you’re acting right now, shaking his head and focusing on the task at hand.

“I was thinking… my friend asked about you,” he says, nonchalantly looking down onto his hands and taking the dirt out from behind his nails, as if it’s not a big deal and he doesn’t even care that much. “Choi Hyunsuk from Biology, you know him– shabby haircut, kinda short, failed the class so he has to retake it this year…?”

“I think you’re forgetting the fact that the two of us have completely different majors, Hoonie,” you sweetly smile at him with irony, making him roll his eyes with a sigh before he tries again.

“The guy who ripped his pants at Xiao Dejun’s party last year?”

“Oh, that one! You should’ve said that earlier, of course I remember Choi Hyunsuk from your Biology class,” you nod hurriedly, the gears finally clicking in your brain.

“As if I wasn’t talking about him for the last few minutes–”

“Okay, and what about him?” you cut him off, already tired of his annoying tangent.

“I said he asked about you.”

“I heard that already,” you nod, looking at him with expecting eyes. “And?”

Jihoon stares at you, unblinking, as if you fell on your head and he’s trying to comprehend if you’re still here with him or if you got a concussion and need to be transferred into a hospital. When the contact of his eyes on your skin gets a bit too uncomfortable– you swear his looks could actually kill someone, if he tried enough– you furrow your brows at him in confusion and shake your head in disbelief.

“Why are you staring at me like that, Park Jihoon?”

“Just tryna see if you’re really that stupid or if you’re just pretending,” he mutters under his nose before he sighs again– his favorite activity whenever you’re around, it seems– and speaks up again, tone of voice reminding you of a kindergartener teacher trying to explain why it gets dark in the evening to a bunch of 4 year olds. “You know, when people ask about you, they are usually interested in you, as in, my friend Hyunsuk didn’t ask because you’re nice, but because you’re hot, if you know what I'm getting onto.”

“Oh,” you get out, eyes wide in concern and a little shaken-up, “well, that’s… nice of him, I guess.”

Jihoon only hums at you before he looks around himself and brings out the bag of chips that he left open by his right side only a few seconds ago, not really speaking more about the topic. It’s either he’s waiting for you to get what he’s hinting at, or he’s just waiting for you to get even more confused and ask him about it in a few seconds again– either way, he’s not the one doing more talking right now, because conversations with you, the most oblivious person he’s ever seen, are never productive if he goes too fast.

Chewing on the chips, his eyes go wide when you finally open your mouth and talk more about the topic at hand– just like he predicted. “Why are you telling me this?”

Your best friend swallows before he places the bag of chips back to its original place and turns his whole body so he’s facing you, speaking up again. “I was thinking that maybe, just maybe, you’d like to hang out with him. Like a date, before you ask– because I know you’re gonna ask– and why? – because, again, I know you’re gonna ask– because I simply think you should try to date again to get your mind off the loser you broke up with two months ago,” he says, blunt and honest, answering all of your unsaid questions at once, and before you know it, he has you snickering and shaking your head in disapproval.

“Absolutely not,” you retort, waving your hands in the air to only further show your disagreement with the proposition, “that would just be a massive catastrophe.”

“Why? Hyunsuk’s nice.”

“I didn’t say he isn’t, it’s just…”

“Just?” he probes you, eyebrows raised and questioning.

“I… don’t know,” you nervously chew on the inside of your cheek, aimlessly shrugging. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea, Jihoon.”

“Because of Mark?” he asks, and the moment his name escapes your best friend’s mouth, the whole room goes strangely quiet– you feel your heartbeat in your throat, the tips of your fingers start tingling and you swear that if you concentrate hard enough, you could feel a bead of sweat drip down your forehead with the incoming stress and nerves only the mention of your ex boyfriend brings you.

“No, that’s not it–”

“Sure,” he nods, sighing to himself– and there it is again, the judging look you so despise.

“You can’t just expect me to date other people a few weeks after my break up, Jihoon,” you exclaim, “that– that wouldn’t even be fair to your friend. You know I wouldn’t be invested,” you explain, and your friend rolls his eyes in frustration, sighing to himself.

“Oh but I know that! And Hyunsuk does too,” he shakes his head at you, “just thought the company of someone else could take your mind off things.”

“I have you,” you try.

“Yeah, but all we do when we’re together is mope about Mark Lee,” Jihoon snickers, “and don’t get me wrong, I’m more than open to bitch about your ex boyfriend and as your best friend, I don’t mind, but the fact that you’d be hanging out with someone else could take your mind off him, because you wouldn’t feel comfortable talking about him with someone else, y’know?”

You shut your eyes closed, a heavy sigh heaving out of your body as you try hard to concentrate and not lose it, and with how Jihoon’s tone gets softer and he’s not as loud with his brutal, yet logical advice, he must feel you getting overwhelmed and accommodates to your needs. “Look, it’s gonna be fun. I promise. Hang out with someone new, feel wanted and hot and pretty again, get some male attention that’s not your ex boyfriend, and you’ll see how it makes you feel. If you hate it, you hate it and you can slap me, I don’t know... If you don’t, you can keep dating around with my friends, and I swear I’ll hook you up only with the nice ones,” he takes your hand into his and waves it around in comfort, making you open your eyes and look at him again.

Seeing the softness and encouragement in your best friend’s eyes, you sigh to yourself. All this time, he’s tried to help you– what if you finally follow his advice? Who knows, it might even help.

Sighing, you squeeze his palm and hover over him to get the stranded bag of chips he’s guarding on the other side of the sofa. “Fine,” you mutter, “but let your friend know that he’s the one paying, okay?”

“Perfect. I'll text him your number, then.“

And maybe Jihoon was right and after dolling yourself up and dressing up in your favorite dress just so you would feel as comfortable as possible, you don’t feel as bad when his friend Hyunsuk picks you up in his white Volvo and chats with you on the way to the restaurant. He makes good small talk and even gets a giggle out of you, the music in his car is low and you find yourself slowly easing into the situation. You don’t remember when the last time you went out with a guy that wasn’t Mark was, but it’s surprisingly nice.

And Jihoon was right– you feel pretty. And when Hyunsuk opens the door for you after pulling up to the parking lot of the restaurant, you even feel wanted. You like the attention, just like any other girl would, and the smile you offer to your date seeps of tender shyness as you get out of the comfortable seat of his car.

The illusion, though, is soon broken as you notice the restaurant he pulled up to. Your smile freezes, your palms get sweaty and you feel your heartbeat rummaging against your ribcage as soon as the idle atmosphere of the restaurant opens up before you. And realistically, you could turn on your heel and get back to the car, tell Hyunsuk that you want to go to another restaurant– but you don’t do it, against your biggest wishes, because you worry that the boy already made a reservation and you don’t want to ruin an evening that’s going well so far.

“Everything alright?” your date checks up on you, seemingly noticing the frown on your face, and when his worried eyes meet yours, it’s sealed– you’d feel too bad for pulling out of the date now. So you only do what you always do best– you put on your best relaxed smile and nod, catching up to him and ensuring him that you’re all okay and you didn’t just talk yourself out of an anxiety attack.

Because you owe it to him and to Jihoon– both of them worked so hard to make you feel happy and help you to get over your ex boyfriend. It’s not Hyunsuk’s fault that he just managed to pick the restaurant your said ex boyfriend works at part-time. He had no way of knowing, and if you’re lucky enough, Mark wouldn’t be on today. He only works here part-time, it’s not like he’s here every day, and as far as you’re concerned, he only worked like two or three days a week when you dated. It would be a weird coincidence for him to be working the day you go there with your new date– you hope you’re not that unlucky.

Hyunsuk is a gentleman. Opening up doors for you, pulling out the chair for you, letting you talk and not interrupting you. He watches you with fond eyes and you almost try to feel bad for the fact that even if this ended well, the poor boy would just end up being a rebound. He deserves so much more, and you start to worry if this date was a good idea after all. Wasn’t it selfish of you to agree to this?

“What do you want to get?” he asks as you open up the menu, and you squint at the prices, mentally taking a note to order the cheapest thing just in case he wants to pay for you at the end of the evening.

“Spaghetti Bolognese,” you blurt out, despite it not being your favorite meal. Hyunsuk just stares at you with squinted eyes, but doesn’t disagree with you. After all, he has no way of knowing that you dislike the taste of the sauce in most restaurants– even though your conscience tells you that Mark knew that and always made sure to remind you about it before ordering for you, worried that you won’t get to eat much that evening– the only thing left to hope is that it tastes good in this particular place.

“Okay, sure,” he nods and puts the menu down, smiling at you before engaging in a comfortable conversation with you. It feels like you’ve known Hyunsuk forever– his personality oddly reminding you of Jihoon’s caused mainly by the fact that the two have grown up together. Everything flows soundly, but you still find yourself anxiously picking at your cuticles as you cautiously look around the restaurant, fearing the fact that you could catch a glimpse of your ex boyfriend at any second.

And maybe you should be a psychic, because those bad feelings were not there for nothing– when you see a waiter walking out of the back and eyeing your table, ready to get your order, the boy is a few inches taller than your current date, raven hair messy, but still a little styled, dark circles under the man’s eyes, and there he is– your ex boyfriend. Mark Lee halts in his movements, wearing his work uniform, eyes wide, a hint of something that breaks you at least in two mirroring in his orbs before he turns on his heel and disappears in the back again. When he doesn’t come back and his co-worker joins you and Hyunsuk at your table with a warm smile, you stop waiting to see the glimpse of him you selfishly desired to catch despite fearing the interaction the whole evening.

You want to fall through the floor and disappear in the depths of this earth. For some reason, you feel mortified. What would he think? And why do you even care about his feelings? A million different thoughts run through your brain and you worry that you’re being too distant from your current date, but Hyunsuk’s warm eyes reassure you that he doesn’t mind.

Piercing the food on your table with your eyes, you try to battle the noisy words running around your brain.

It’s easy to say you’re over someone when you don’t see them. To have them in front of you, meet their gaze and acknowledge their existence and still be able to nod and say that you’ve moved on, is something completely different.

Were you ever convinced that you were over Mark Lee in the first place, though?

After all of this– the months of following Jihoon’s advice, although making a few mishaps along the way as you continue to pick up Mark’s calls on Friday nights, snoop around his socials and let your mind wander to places it shouldn’t, overthinking everything and making you wish the relationship never ended in the first place– it’s time for the last step of it all. The last, most crucial part of this whole moving on process– the most important one, if you may.

Step five – avoid him at all costs.

Sounds easy, right? After the four previous steps, you’d already cried plenty about the lost months with your ex-boyfriend. You’d already given him back all of his stuff, not tying yourself to him with any material memory. You’d already gone on a date with someone new, choosing to distract yourself instead of letting yourself feel the emotions. After all the previous steps, this one’s supposed to be the easiest one. The one you’re supposed to want to do, after all. The break-up wasn’t messy, but it was still painful– it’s only natural for you to not want to see Mark ever again, right?

Wrong.

Because you never listen to the advice you’re given. That just wouldn’t be you, would it?

And so when Mark Lee calls you one day and tells you that he has a free train ticket to the Bukhansan stop, explaining that he was supposed to go hike there with Donghyuck who canceled on him last minute because of an assignment due midnight, you don’t really hesitate much before you shoot him a short text saying that you’re down and get ready for the short hike.

When you meet your ex boyfriend at the station, his figure slightly slouched up until the moment his eyes meet yours, you feel the quiet tension in the air. You’ve seen each other a few times before this meeting– on a party you went to with Jihoon, at the campus when you went to class one morning, your ex boyfriend walking you towards the Art building, hell, you’ve even met in the grocery store, all accidental and making your heart leap in your chest with tension. This time, though, you’re here completely intentionally, just to hang out with him, and something about the fact makes a dull pain shoot all through your intestines, a sensation so uncomfortable you try to hide with a tight-lipped smile.

“Ready for the hike?” he asks, adjusting the bag on his back, playing with the straps with clammy fingers. You can’t help but notice how he looks just like a little boy, in his little world, shielded from everything. He seems to have taken a protective stance, and you hate how the air between you shifted from how you two used to be when you were dating. Mark seems scared. Nervous. On top of his feet. Maybe you shouldn’t have agreed to this at all.

You’re already here, though. Turning around and leaving wouldn’t really work right now, as you take a step towards the train that’s just arrived, humming to your ex boyfriend in agreement. Taking a seat on the place Mark’s pointed to you on the train ticket, you try to loosen up your muscles and get as comfortable as you can, clearing your mind as you gaze outside of the window.

“How have you been?” he asks, clearing his throat.

Pressing your lips into a tight line, you turn to him as you search for an answer. “Better,” you nod, voice quiet. “You?”

Mark hums, chewing the inside of his cheek. “Good, good,” he lies through his teeth, “I’ve seen you at the restaurant the other day,” he hints, and you battle the sigh that’s begging to cut out of your throat. You don’t know where he’s going with the sentence. It’s not a question– only a proposition, barely even that– and you could ignore it with a nod of your head, you could pay it no mind as you see the bitterness in his gaze and the slightly self-conscious averting of his stare. You don’t know where he’s going with the conversation, but frankly, you don’t know where you are going with your answer either, as you shrug to him in a casual manner and peep under your breath.

“Yeah,” you say, “that was just… Jihoon’s friend from uni, I suppose,” you complete, and the sentence hints at nothing– it doesn’t clear out the confusion, it doesn’t outright say anything that could make Mark believe that it was just a casual hang-out with a friend, but still, you see the boy visibly relax as he nods to you and offers you a tight-lipped smile.

“Oh,” he hums, looking out of the window, past the profile of your face. The change in topic is sudden and sharp, but also welcome as he falls into a casual conversation with you, and suddenly, you’re reminded by the Mark you once knew– the guy you’ve once called not socially awkward, but so social that it’s awkward– as he talks to you about his day and rambles on about the weather. “It’s good that it won’t rain today, I bet the view will be nice.”

Locking your gaze with him for a brief second, you lick your lips and point your eyes towards the ground. It’s good that it won’t rain today, as opposed to last time you two went to the Bukhansan trail. You wonder if he remembers.

Before you have a chance to mention it– and in all reality, you won’t, no matter how bold you could be feeling at the moment– the train comes to a stop at your station and you hop out of the carriage, ready for the hike.

It’s easy to forget how messed up things have gotten between the two of you when you walk alongside with your ex boyfriend, laughing at his silly jokes and gasping at everything he shows to you with a pointed finger, finding yourself admiring the sound of his giggle when he spots a squirrel pass your path somewhere near the top of the hill. The trail is almost empty at this hour, since the two of you have decided to go in the late afternoon, and you find your soul to finally be at peace after so many weeks, you finally feel relaxed in the nature, one with the wind and the gentle sound of birds chirping lullying your running thoughts to a rest.

You realize that this is just what you needed all this time. You needed to get out and walk for some while, to tune out yourself and to accept the fact that you’re still here, for another day, and something about that is still a blessing. Watching the back of Mark’s head as he walks a step in front of you due to the narrowness of the trail in this area, you smile to yourself. It’s easy to forget just how much you were hurt by him when he heals your soul with such a simple gesture. It’s easy to forget you were hurt when he seemingly tries to put all the broken pieces back together, glue them to where they were in the first place, when things were easier and you both didn’t have so many things to worry about.

You reach the top just as the sun starts setting over the horizon, and there are only a few people scattered across the peak, sitting on their own picnic blankets and gazing into the distance. The hues of the sky paint the world in a different color, the oranges, pinks and muted purples playing with your heartstrings as you come to a halt and crouch down and feel the presence of another soul mirror your actions only a meter away to your right, his gaze glued to your side. The view is beautiful, but the feeling of being watched isn’t ignorable anymore, and so you turn to your companion and raise your eyebrows at him, wondering if he has something to say.

You don’t know how you’ll be able to come back to your life after this and pretend you still don’t want to spend every passing second with the man on your right. You don’t know how you’re supposed to ignore the ever so growing love for him– even though after being so disappointed with the past, the feelings should be decreasing, not doing the opposite– and frankly, you don’t even want to think of going back to the way it’s been for the past few months. And so you don’t– you allow yourself to indulge the moment, to ignore the pain that’s about to come, just so you could hold another beautiful memory to your heart and enjoy the moment before it hurts you to think of it tomorrow morning.

“It’s even more beautiful than the last time,” Mark hums, but his eyes never leave your figure– if you were still dating, you bet he’d come out with a cheesy line about how you’re prettier than the view, or something. “It didn’t rain this time around, thank god.”

Gazing at him, you shake your head in disbelief. Scoffing, you play with the grass between your fingers. “You remember that?”

“Yeah,” he hums, “I remember a lot of things.”

The sentence makes you bitterly chuckle. He knows why you’re reacting the way you are– and you have every right to. He claims to remember a lot of things, but the ones important to you, the ones you wanted him to remember, he failed to save into his memory. And that’s eventually what made you break up with him, at the end of it all.

At your reaction, he sighs and drags a hand across his face, seemingly realizing the weight of his own words and just how ridiculous he must have sounded to you right now.

“I- That-” he stutters, shaking his head, “that sounded stupid right now, considering… everything… Didn’t it?”

“Kind of,” you nod, not wanting to meet his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out, voice suddenly raw and serious, so different to the tone he’s been using with you the whole afternoon, “I don’t- I can’t remember if I said that back then, when you- when you… broke up with me, but I really am sorry, Y/N. You didn’t deserve that, and I am in no way shape or form trying to make this about me, but I hate myself every day for the way things turned out and if I could go back to that day, I’d do so many things differently.”

The sky in front of you deepens in reds and you taste iron on your tongue, suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that you’ve managed to bite on your lip too hard in the midst of the conversation. Tearing out stems of grass with your clammy fingertips, you focus on the clouds running through the sky, calculating your next response.

“Okay,” you nod, not giving him much else. The answer perfectly encapsulates the way you feel on the inside right now– you don’t know if you’re ready to accept his apology, if you’re ready to let go of it and act like you weren’t hurt or that none of it ever happened, but you listened to him and you internalized his words. He is sorry. He knows he was in the wrong. And you were aware that he knew all of this before– hell, you’d even go as far as say he knew it the moment you knocked on his door that day and told him it was over– but hearing it from him surely moved something inside of you to a more comfortable place.

“I-” he starts, voice breaking making him clear his throat before he continues, “I don’t expect you to forgive me. And I know I shouldn’t have expected you to still be my friend after all of this, and that- I shouldn’t have even called you so many times and approached you at the store and stuff, but um-” he mumbles, shrugging to himself, “I guess I just couldn’t stay away from you. And again, I don’t expect you to forgive me, I don’t expect you to do anything, really. So… yeah…”

Snickering at his aimless monologue, you shake your head in disbelief. “Mark?”

“Yeah?” he stares at you, eyes a bottomless pool of emotion.

“Why did you invite me here today? What was the… point, I guess?” you ask, hugging your knees to your chest as the breeze makes goosebumps appear all over your body.

Mark offers you a sad smile, head leaned to his right as he shrugs, and this time, his eyes don’t leave yours as he spills the truth into the air. “I guess I was just feeling selfish today,” he hums, and the sentence makes you cringe with the memory of his first call to you after your break up, “wanted to spend time with you.”

“Here, of all places?”

“Yeah,” he nods, “told you. I was feeling selfish.”

Snickering, you look away, staring at the sky again. The colors are starting to blend together into a deep, dark purple– the horizon darkening as the sun starts to say its final goodbyes to the day. You sigh to yourself, yet feel no bitterness or terror at his words. Somehow, you understand. Somehow, you get him a little too well. Somehow, you think you knew the moment he texted you today, and somehow, you think you felt it in your bones when you didn’t say no, although you could have. There’s calmness in your soul when you nod at the implication of his words, leaning back on your elbows and plopping your bottom to the ground, sitting at the dusty surface.

“You said you didn’t expect anything out of me today, Mark.”

“And I don’t,” he says, voice soft.

“And you brought me here to remind me of the last time we went?” you stare at him, a hint of a bitten-back smile playing with your lips. “Because you’re selfish?”

He nods, not escaping your gaze. “To remind you of the last time we went. To show you that… I remember, I guess. And that I still care, just like the last time. If not more.”

“Mark, you can’t just say all of this and expect nothing out of me right now,” you mutter.

“Actually, I can. Because that’s what I’m doing. I’m just… laying it out in the open, and what you do with the information is completely, completely up to you,” he explains, and you find yourself chuckling at him, the atmosphere instantly lighter as you hear his voice in its usual casualness, talking to you as if he was just unpacking what went on in class today, and not the starting and the end of your one year relationship.

And he’s right. What you do with the information is completely up to you, and the next steps and the progress of your relationship with Mark Lee is also completely in your hands. You could turn away and never talk to him again, you could curse at him and tell him that it’s too late now and he missed his chance, but if that was the case, you wouldn’t be here in the first place. He wouldn’t be inviting you to this place, lying about his roommate canceling just to trick you into going, and you wouldn’t be blindly accepting the invitation, wanting to see where the afternoon brings you.

“So you still care about me?” you hum, looking at him from under your eyelashes, noticing his slouched-over pose as he looks back at you over his shoulder.

“Always have,” he admits, “never stopped. Despite not really… acting like it in the past few months.”

“Why’d you stop acting like it, then?” you ask.

A sigh escapes his lips, his head turning forward before he leans back and sits cross-legged on the ground, more comfortably now. Shrugging, he answers the question. “I guess I just got too caught up with different things. And don’t get me wrong, you were always my priority, always, but I was all over the place with everything and my mind just couldn’t… there were too many things to keep up with and I couldn’t stay up to date with everything,” he says, “and I know it’s not an excuse, but it’s an explanation, and it doesn’t make it better or undo the pain I’ve caused you, but it’s… at least you know it was never because I’d care about you any less.”

His eyes bear into yours with such honesty you think the weight of the world will crash on you any minute, and suddenly, the whole situation seems so much clearer.

And you wouldn’t take it back, you wouldn’t undo the breakup or do anything differently, because at the end of the day, you think it was needed. Perhaps the time apart was what he needed as a wake up call and what you needed to shield yourself from hurting more.

“Stop me from saying it if you… if you don’t want to hear it right now,” he hums, voice barely louder than a whisper. There seems to be a silent communication between the two of you, a connection of some sort that brings out the strange telepathy, but you just nod at him, a gentle smile playing with your lips as you understand exactly what he means, telling him that it’s okay and that you don’t mind– you welcome, you need to hear him say it again.

Licking his lips, he turns to you fully, facing you. There’s not a hint of nervousness in his body, having done this a lot of times before, and then it happens– the repeated confession, confirming what was there the whole time, never leaving even when the times were rough.

“I love you,” he says.

And isn’t that all that’s needed?

A year is a long time with someone. Somehow, you wouldn’t want the time to go to waste. At the end of the day, if love is still present, isn’t it worth trying? One more time?

“And you still don’t expect anything from me?” you ask, gazing at him softly. “You don’t expect me to say it back?”

“No,” he breathes out, shrugging. “I just needed to get it off my chest.”

“Because you’re selfish like that,” you nod, teasing him.

“Because I’m selfish like that,” he agrees, breaking out into a slight grin.

Looking at the sky, now completely dipped in dark purple, you sigh to yourself at the turmoil of the conversation. You don’t say it back– although you feel it, you know it’s in there, playing with your heartstrings and clenching the muscle in the palm of its hand– you know love is there, deep inside, for the man that’s currently staring at you as if you hung the very stars appearing on the sky there yourself, stolen them from your own eyes and gluing them there selflessly, for everyone to see. You don’t tell him you love him back, you don’t tell him you forgive him or accept his apology. You don’t worry about what tomorrow will bring you, what your brain is going to tell you when you come down from the hill and get home, lay in your bed and overthink. You let the worries escape you, letting fondness and calm envelope you in a tight hug instead.

“Okay,” you nod, watching the boy next to you look at you with curious eyes. You take his hand into yours and place it on your thigh, playing with his fingers for a heartbeat before you meet his eyes again and smile. “I won’t say it back, but for all it’s worth, Mark… I’m glad you remembered.”

And that’s all he needs– there is love, there is fondness, and there is the silent confirmation that all you need right now is just a bit more time.

Where do broken hearts go?

Somehow, you think they hold on to the place where it all started. Somehow, you think your heart never went anywhere– it stayed on this hill, waiting for you to pay it a visit and pick back up everything right from where you left it.

“It doesn’t seem like a good idea to go here today, Y/N,” Mark laughed behind you as he looked up to the sky, the dark clouds shielding the sun that had been previously shining down on your hiking figures, casting an orange glow on the strands of your hair.

“Well, there’s no turning back now,” you shrugged, turning to him and grinning as you tugged on his hand, grip strong as you dragged the boy up the trail, your sneakers fast against the dirty ground. “We have finals starting next week and it’s gonna be too cold to go after the exam season is over, so we gotta go now.”

“I kind of regret telling you that I’ve never been here before now,” Mark sighed, but followed you nonetheless, breathlessly following your excited stride. It was October, the leaves on the trees were welcoming the two of you in shining colors, and the wind kissing your skin turned a bit chilly in the evenings– courtesy of the warm hoodie Mark shyly lended you when you shivered for the first time, adoring the way you, his friend, looked in the light gray fabric. Something about you wearing his clothes made the boy a bit hopeless about the day. Maybe he’ll have enough courage to confess his feelings to you, he thought. Maybe, despite the first raindrops falling on the skin of his bare arms, this evening will have a happy ending for you and him.

“Oh, please,” you squinted at him, continuing to run up the hill– thank god it wasn’t that steep, serving both of you as the perfect hiking difficulty, “even if you wouldn’t have, I’d drag you here anyway. It’s like, my favorite place to go in Seoul, haven’t I told you before?”

You have, Mark thought. But he was okay with hearing it again.

You squealed when the raindrops got heavier and the rain started pouring faster on the two of you, and Mark found himself laughing at your running figure. He was right behind you, praying that you don’t slip on one of the rocks and break your leg on the hiking trail, but he encouraged you with sweet comments and a hand on the small of your back as he watched the tip of the hill appear right in front of his very eyes, your body coming to a satisfied halt when you reached your destination.

“Tada!” you grinned at him, twirling a little like a ballerina, showing him the place with outstretched arms. He tried hard to observe the place, but his eyes stayed glued to your excited figure, gaze bearing into yours as you looked at him, amidst a little flustered, with sparkly orbs and a bright smile on your face. Your hair was a mess, his gray hoodie enveloping your body was slowly growing darker in color from absorbing the rain, and your sneakers were getting a bit muddy from walking around the place. He wanted to remember this moment forever, he thought– this version of you, the smiley expression on your face, the carefree and excited nature of your step.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” you exclaimed, jumping around and nearing the boy, but as you went to take his hand to drag him around the top of the hill once more, your feet slipped and you fell forward, a surprised squeak battling its way out of your throat.

Your whole life flashed in front of your very eyes in that moment, embarrassment spreading down your neck at the fact that you were about to fall face first onto the ground in front of your crush of a few months, before your body collided with a soft, yet firm mass engulfing you closer. A pair of strong arms steadied you against his chest, and when you looked up at your friend, you swear all words were taken out of your dictionary, the sight leaving you speechless.

“It is,” he gaped, eyes bearing into yours. Mark was agreeing with you, but something in the back of your head was telling you that he didn’t really admire this place as much as you did– his curious gaze was always plastered somewhere completely else.

That place being your face, of course. And your eyes, your cheeks, the mess of your bangs, and occasionally– screw that, almost always– your lips. Much like in that moment, a few centimeters away from his face, so inviting he thought it would be a crime to contain the urge.

And so he didn’t– he didn’t control his feelings and the ever-so growing yearning for you, as he silently leaned towards your face and captured his lips with yours in a firm, yet short kiss.

He looked at you with a nervous tint behind his gaze when he leaned away, the sight of your wide eyes staring at him making a slight flush grow on his cheeks. You looked so beautiful in that moment– flustered, surprised, with messy hair and lips still apart– and he was relieved to not find a hint of a displeased emotion in your expression.

“Okay, so- well-” you stuttered, laughing to yourself, “this didn’t go as I planned, but I guess I’m happy as long as the final result is the same,” you hummed, standing on your tippy-toes and pressing your lips against him once more, this time letting yourself enjoy the moment fully, mouth moving against his in a careful, yet excited rhythm. He tasted like the strawberry candy you offered him on the bottom of the trail and smelled a bit like rain, the mixture always staying in the depths of your mind as his warmth enveloped you in comfort and a feeling of home.

“The final result being…?” he asked when you pulled apart once again, a dazed expression overtaking his sharp features.

“Us,” you shrugged, “like this,” you clarified.

Mark laughed at that, hugging you closer to his chest. You rested your head on his shoulder, listening to the sound of raindrops washing away the top layer of dirt off the rocks on the tip of the hill, hands sneaking around his waist and enjoying the way they wrapped around him so tightly and so comfortably. You in his hoodie, in your favorite place, standing in his arms. It was raining, but it didn’t matter.

“Mark?”

“Hm?”

“If we ever get lost, or something happens… bring me back here, okay?” you mumbled close to his ear, lips gently glazing the skin of his ear, making goosebumps appear all over your new lover. “I’m convinced that this place could fix everything.”

“Even us?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not allowed to ever leave me now, what would there be to fix between us?” you smacked his shoulder, snickering to yourself.

“You never know,” he laughed, “what if I accidentally mess up somewhere along the way?” he asked, threading his fingers through your hair, smoothing down the wet mess.

“Okay then,” you hummed, “even us.”

Staring into your eyes, letting the moment play out by itself, Mark swore he’s never felt more at peace. He wondered if it was the effect of the place, the rain, or just your sheer presence. “I’ll remember that,” he giggled before he let go of your body, petting your head as he took a hold of your hand, tugging you down from where you came from, “now let’s go home before we catch a cold.”

Nodding, following the man as you both carefully, yet fastly made it down the trail, you enjoyed the way his hand fit into yours and the way you knew that after this, you can’t ever come back to being friends with Mark Lee. He was all yours, completely, utterly yours, and you knew in the back of your head, that you were his– and nothing will ever change that.

You would always come back to the hill with him. It felt ridiculous to think about you two ever having to fix anything between the two of you back then, but even in that moment, you knew that for him, you’d keep trying. As long as he does– as long as he remembers.

Where do broken hearts go? You guess they always come right back to the place they come from– and they leave glued back together every single time.

You guess your heart never really left the hill.

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heavenlyhischier · 8 months

Text

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐨

word count: 6.2k

summary: You finally arrive in Switzerland and take a trip to Nico's hometown. Nothing can go wrong, right?

warnings: angst (sorta. at the end), drinking mentioned, not edited, probably some inaccurate descriptions of Switzerland, but I did my best ahaha, poorly translated german!!!

note: thank you guys for the love on the first part! i hope you enjoy this as much. my inbox is always open for questions or concerns!

series masterlist | prev part

JULY 2023

The plane rides to Switzerland were arguably the worst experiences of your life, when it came to air travel at least. First, people at the terminals were absolutely miserable and rude to you from the moment you stepped foot in the airports until you sat in your seat on the plane. Second, you almost missed your flight after your overnight layover because the hotel shuttle broke down. Then, you were unfortunately seated next to the seemingly one person on the plane who snored while they slept. On top of all of that, you were in the middle seat for both flights.

Needless to say, you had had enough of planes for the time being and you wouldn’t be upset if you stayed in Switzerland for the rest of your life if it meant never having to do that again. The only thing that got you through all of that without crying your eyes out were Nico’s excited texts about your arrival, and also Jack, who had to talk you down from fighting one of the terminal women at the airport after Charlie called him in a panic.

Once you and Charlie had gone through the proper channels to be granted clearance and had your suitcases, you searched the sea of people bustling around the airport for Nina, Nico’s sister. You’d only seen her in pictures, but Nico had made her send you a picture of what she would be wearing to make her a little easier for you to spot. You were grateful that she had, because you’re not sure you would’ve found her if it weren’t for knowing she was wearing a bright yellow top.

“Hello,” She beams, her smile just as bright and her accent thicker than her brothers, “It’s so nice to finally meet you! Nico has not shut up about you since he got back home.”

Your cheeks instantly flushed a deep shade of pink as you let the man to her left take your suitcase, while she grabbed at Charlie’s. You’d known Nico had told his sister about your arrival and trip, but you didn’t think there was enough to tell that would’ve had him discussing you for the last two months. Though, you were going to choose to not dwell or read too much into it. Maybe it was a simple mistranslation.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, too,” You grinned, letting her pull you forward into a hug, “I’ve heard so much about you over the years.”

“Hopefully good things,” She teases as she gently squeezes you, “This is my boyfriend, Finn.”

You step out of Nina’s grasp and take Finn’s outstretched hand, a warm smile on your face as you introduce yourself. Once Charlie had made her own introductions, Nina was ready to set off towards the car. She relayed an apology from Nico, mentioning how he desperately tried to get out of the prior commitment just so that he was able to pick the two of you up. You had to ignore Charlie’s not-so-subtle elbow into your rib cage as she snickered.

“I’ll be sure to tell him not to worry. After all, he’s letting us stay in his house for free,” You lightly laughed, handing your backpack to Finn as he loaded the trunk.

“Yes, he told me about that. He said you are quite stubborn, in the best way,” She had a mischievous smile toying on her face, “He was ready to give up the entire place, but he said you wouldn’t let him.”

“Yeah,” You shyly laughed, “I’m not putting him out of his own home. I don’t mind sharing a bed with Charlie.”

Nina slightly raised her brows at you, giving you a teasing smile when she noticed the blush that was still decorating your cheeks. You averted your gaze away from the woman in front of you, trying to not think about how much Nico had told his sister about you. Trying to ignore the stampede of butterflies in your stomach.

“Thank you,” You and Charlie said at the same time as Finn grabbed the last of your bags, earning an amused look from the Swiss natives in front of you.

Nina offered either one of you the front seat, but you both declined and slid into the back instead. The drive there was filled with her pointing out landmarks or important shops, with Finn chiming in every once in a while despite his English being slightly off. You made a mental note to learn more words in their language to better communicate with him, and the other Swiss born people you’d encounter. You tried to learn the language as best as you could over Duolingo without asking Nico, but that proved to be more difficult than you’d anticipated.

Nearly halfway through the drive to the apartment, you’d gotten a text from Nico that mentioned how sorry he was for not only him not being there, but for also sticking you with his sister until he was done. You bit your lip in order to prevent yourself from smiling, though it didn’t necessarily work based on Nina’s smirk when she glanced back at you. Your response was simple, telling him that it was perfectly fine, that you loved his sister, and you were excited to see what he had in store.

When Finn pulls up to Nico’s complex, he leaves the car running outside the main front door and jumps out to grab your suitcases from the trunk. You slip out of the backseat, Charlie following suit as the two of them nearly shove you away as they grab your bags. Finn mumbles something to Nina before placing a gentle kiss to her lips and getting back into the car.

“He said wait here until he parks the car,” Nina translated, hands on her hips as she watches him drive off, “So, you and my brother are not…?”

The question caught you so off guard that you slightly choke on the air in your lungs, your eyes widening as Charlie let out a loud laugh. “We’re just friends,” You explained, your voice slightly cracking in embarrassment.

“I don’t buy it,” She shrugs nonchalantly, her brow quirking as she looks at you, “I know my brother, and you’re quite obvious too, you know.”

“Oh, I know,” Charlie snorted, ignoring the scowl you sent her way.

“We’re just friends,” You repeated, your voice much softer as you stared at your shoes.

Though Nina still didn’t believe you, she dropped the subject and fell into conversation with Charlie as you sat with your thoughts. It was a secret to none, except for Nico himself apparently, that you had feelings for him, and you’re not sure how you plan to keep those tucked away for the next week and a half. Nina’s subtle comments about how much he spoke about you were not helping you, either. In fact, they were letting you drift back over into the possibility of him liking you back.

Finn quickly returned, taking only your suitcase after you put up a stubborn argument when he tried to carry your backpack as well. Nina translated for the both of you in amusement, laughing with Charlie when you placed your hands on your hips and shook your head at Finn. After your small, harmless debate had been settled, you followed them inside and up to Nico’s apartment. While you were in the elevator, you felt your phone buzzing in your back pocket, and you saw Nico’s name on the screen.

“Hello,” You answered, turning away from the smug smiles of the three of them.

“Hey! Did you guys make it to the apartment,” He asks, only the quiet hum of passing traffic being heard in the background, “I’m on my way now. I made them let me leave early.”

“Yeah, we’re in the elevator right now,” You told him, a light blush decorating your cheeks simply from speaking to him, “You didn’t have to leave early. We would’ve been fine.”

“Oh, he left early,” You heard Charlie’s teasing whisper followed by Nina’s giggle.

“I wanted to. I’ll be there in about ten minutes, so I will see you soon,” His voice was slightly softer than usual, almost as if he was trying to hold himself back from something.

“Great, see you soon,” You bashfully spoke, all too aware of the audience behind you.

You disconnected the call, avoiding turning around to see what you know are going to be playful grins and relentless comments on how red your face had gotten. Luckily, the elevator had reached Nico’s floor, and Nina was slipping past you to lead the way. Shaking your head when Charlie winked at you, you followed the two of them down the hallway until you reached what you assume is Nico’s apartment since Nina’s fishing around her bag for a set of keys.

When she finally gets the door unlocked, she pushes it open and gestures for the two of you to step inside. Your eyes are dancing around the apartment, drinking in all of the little details and decorations that littered the space. Pictures of his family and friends hung on the wall, but there was one picture in particular that stood out to you.

It was a picture of just the two of you that had been taken less than four months ago, after their win over the Rangers. You had tagged along with the guys and their partners out to some small diner to celebrate their win, and you ended up next to Nico at the table. You later learned it was not a happy accident courtesy of Nicole. The two of you were talking and having a good time when you had tipped your chair too far backwards, sending you toppling over.

Nico, being the kind person he is, had tried to prevent you from falling, but instead, he went crashing down with you. The two of you laid on the floor, laughter echoing around you as you looked at him. You had no idea anyone had even taken a picture of the two of you, but it made something swell inside of your heart at the thought of Nico not only knowing, but even caring enough to print it out.

“Let me show you the guest room,” Nina’s voice tears you out of your trance.

Both girls share knowing, teasing looks with each other, earning an eye roll from you as you follow Nina down the short hallway. She pushes open a door, her and Finn rolling the suitcases into the decently sized bedroom. You rush around Charlie, quickly moving to claim your side of the bed before she can do it.

The bedroom isn’t anything grand, but it looks extremely comfortable and cozy. The fluffy comforter is a light blue color with matching pillowcases that told you it likely came in a set. The walls in the room were sparsely decorated, but there was a full length mirror tucked in a corner with a small table next to it that was perfect for getting ready. There was also a TV that appeared to still have the plastic protective film over it sitting atop a nice wooden dresser.

The view outside the window made your jaw drop and your eyes slightly widen, the thought of never leaving returning again, but for a much better reason now. You had only seen very little of what the city had to offer, but you were already absolutely enchanted by it in its entirety. There was absolutely nothing that could compare.

“I’ll let you guys get settled and wait for Nico in the main room,” Nina softly spoke, “If you need help, just yell!”

“Thank you,” You gave her a small smile.

You and Charlie fall into a comfortable silence as you begin taking things out of your suitcases and bags. There was a small closet that you divided equally, and you also split the six drawer dresser between the two of you. You left your toiletries and other items on the exposed space of the dresser, not wanting to take up any bathroom space. You were in the middle of tucking your suitcase under the bed when you heard his voice.

“Well, come on,” Charlie playfully rolls her eyes as she watches you debate going out there.

She doesn’t wait for you as you briefly remain in your spot, your hands trembling with nerves, but you follow shortly after. Your heart is pounding in your chest as you round the corner, and you’re not entirely sure why. You knew you were going to be seeing him, so why were you so nervous?

“Hey Nico,” Charlie greets, letting him pull you into a side hug.

He greets her in return, but his eyes don’t leave your figure once he notices you hesitating near the hallway. The three of them notice the way Nico seems to have let them fade away, his focus now being you and only you. Nico’s arm is so loose around Charlie that she barely feels a difference when she steps away from them, her smirk matching that of Nina and Finn as Nico steps towards you.

Your eyes never stray away from his, everyone around you blending in with the background, as you watch him approach you with bated breath. Nico has the small smile on his face that he always does, but it makes your heart swell all the same. He instantly pulls you into his chest, his arms wrapping around your neck as your own wrap around his torso.

Nina shares a look with the two others as she shakes her head in amusement before she moves into the kitchen. Finn follows suit, Charlie shortly after, leaving you and Nico in the main room alone. Your head is pressed against his chest as you relish in the feeling of his arms encasing you. You could stay there forever if you had the opportunity.

“Missed you,” Nico bashfully mumbles, making your already red cheeks deepen in color.

“Missed you, too,” You whisper against him.

“I’m excited to show you my home,” He says as he pulls away, his hands lingering on your arms a tad longer than necessary, “I have a lot planned for us.”

The first couple of days Nico showed the two of you around Bern, taking you to all of his favorite spots, and spots he thought the two of you would enjoy. He let you guys have control of when you went, but he gave some guidance because certain places were best to see at certain times. He also gave you the option to say no every time he brought up something he wanted you guys to see, but you never did. Both of you wanted to see everything that you could.

The third day you were there, Nico mentioned that his parents wanted to host dinner for everyone, but he made it clear you didn’t have to go to that either. He reiterated that it was your trip and if you didn’t want to spend the little time you had with his family, he completely understood. You had given him a pointed look when you told him you would love to go and that it would never be anything except an honor to have them host you for dinner.

You had spent the majority of the day relaxing and wandering around the city with Charlie while Nico had gone off to do something work related for the morning. The two of you arrived back at his apartment an hour before you were supposed to leave, and you took turns showering before getting yourselves ready for the dinner. You were sitting on the floor in front of the mirror doing your hair when you noticed a receipt on the floor poking out underneath the table.

Curiosity always gets the best of you, so you reach for the paper and pull it out to look at it. The words were in a language you didn’t really understand, but the date was something you could clearly read. It was dated only a couple of days before your arrival and it had four things listed on it, so you opened your phone to do your best google translating job.

Mirror. TV. Side table. Comforter set.

Nico had bought a mirror, the comforter set, the side table, and a goddamn TV for the room before you got there. You’re positive he would’ve done this for anyone who was visiting and staying in his house, but you couldn’t help but let the warm feeling in your chest spread throughout your body. Nico had a big heart and he would always go to great lengths to make those he cared about as comfortable as possible, and regret from all of the times you let your unnecessary feelings push him away flooded your body.

You didn’t have much time to dwell on that when you heard him walking through the door. Nico quickly popped his head in the room and to tell the two of you he was going to shower and change and then they would head to the train station. You and Charlie finished getting ready and waited for him in the living room, talking about how much fun you were having so far. It didn’t take Nico long to come out of his room freshly showered and changed, and he looked good.

He had changed into a pair of simple white shorts and he had on a black shirt that had an unrecognizable logo above where his heart was. It wasn’t anything over the top, but it still made you flush with warmth as you looked at him. Charlie elbowed you in the side when she noticed the way your stare lingered on him, a quiet snicker passing through her lips.

“Are you guys ready,” He asks, his cheeks tinged slightly pink. You assume it’s from how quickly he got ready, but Charlie knew better.

“We’ve been waiting on you,” You tease, playfully rolling your eyes.

“Yeah yeah,” He laughs as carefully brushes past you, “Let’s go then. Our train leaves soon.”

“Why are we taking a train again,” Charlie asks while the two of you follow Nico out of his apartment, letting him lock it behind you.

“It’s the quickest way to my home city. It’s an hour by train and two hours by car,” He says over his shoulder.

The three of you took the short trip to the train station, the car ride full of Charlie practicing her German with Nico who laughed at her attempts, but corrected her with grace. You yourself had recruited Nina’s help in learning and understanding the language, a little too embarrassed to ask for Nico’s help even though you knew he wouldn’t judge you.

When you arrived at the station, Nico made sure that everyone had everything before guiding the two of you inside. It was busier than you thought, but Nico said most things there were since it was the summer months. His eyes kept glancing behind him to make sure the two of you were behind him, and he made sure to give you a small smile each time you made eye contact with him. He could tell you were becoming overwhelmed at the amount of people, and he wanted to take your hand in his own to calm you down, but he knew he couldn’t do that.

When you finally made it onto the train, Nico guided you to your seats, gesturing for the two of you to sit before he did. You took the seat by the window, and Charlie gave you a subtle wink as she took the seat across from you instead of next to you. You carefully narrowed your eyes at her, but she looked away with a smug look on her face.

Nico took the seat next to you as the three of you fell into a comfortable silence. You kept your hands clasped in your lap, silently cursing Charlie but simultaneously thanking her at the same time. She was only doing what you were scared to do. The feeling of his thigh pressed against your own made your mind hazy as you kept your eyes trained on the platform outside of the window, watching as people rushed by.

Charlie, who couldn’t stay quiet longer than five minutes to save her life, started asking about what the rest of the week had in store even though he’d told you a hundred times. Nico indulged Charlie’s questions, though his eyes kept flitting to you as you stayed quiet in your seat. He wanted to ask you if you were okay, but he felt like it wasn’t the place for that. Though you were fine, except for the always impending realization that your feelings for the man next to you seemed to grow every day.

You started joining in on the conversation not too long after the train ride started. It was a mixture of topics ranging from what you were going to do now that you graduated to Charlie’s complicated relationship with Jack. Charlie had noticed the way both you and Nico had subconsciously shifted your bodies towards each other, but she chose to silently observe rather than embarrass you both like you did to her.

When the train reached the station in Nico’s hometown, you couldn’t help but feel slightly nervous. You felt as if you had to make a good impression on Nico’s parents and you were nervous that you were going to screw it up. What if your outfit was too much? Too little? What if you tried to speak to them in their native language and you embarrassed yourself?

Both Charlie and Nico could see the worry on your face, and she gave it a moment to see if he would step in. She watched him hesitate, but ultimately had backed down so she could step in. Charlie grasped your hand in her own, giving it a gentle squeeze as the two of you followed Nico out towards where Luca said he would be waiting.

As soon as the brothers saw each other, they were loudly greeting each other as they pulled the other into their embrace. You couldn’t help but notice the way his entire face lit up the moment he saw his brother. You weren’t used to him looking so truly carefree that it put a smile on your face, and it made you wish that he could feel that happiness all the time.

Nico lets go of his brother and introduces him to the two of you. Luca, much like his sister did, tugs you into his arms as he says, “So nice to meet you. Nico has told me a lot.”

Your face instantly heats up, as does Nico’s as you step out of Luca’s hold and keep your gaze on the ground. Charlie quietly mumbles about how much she loves this family before letting Luca hug her aswell. You are intensely aware of Nico’s proximity to you, but you’re too flustered to glance at him. Truthfully, he’s a little embarrassed himself that his brother exposed him so freely.

“Well, let’s get going,” Luca claps his hands together, “Mom is excited to see everyone.”

The ride to their home was fairly short, but Nico and Luca pointed out a few of their favorite spots from when they were children. It was a cute town, full of life and character that most towns in the United States could only dream of having. Each new thing you saw had you completely enamored, and furthered the idea that you could stay forever.

The four of you climbed out of the car and headed towards the house, and you had forced yourself to put on your best facade of confidence to mask the nerves that rippled from your chest. Charlie looked nervous herself, but the both of you knew it was for a far different reason than you were.

You admired the outside of his parent’s home as you walked up the path to the front door. It was nothing grand, but it was beautiful. They had a blooming garden tucked underneath what you assumed is the window in the main room. They had adorable outdoor trinkets perfectly littered in the yard, and they even had the most beautiful bird bath you’d ever seen.

Luca opened the front door, announcing your arrival as he gestured for you guys to follow him inside. You guys step into the entryway, toeing your shoes off in lieu of Luca and Nico. You let your eyes wander around you, taking in all the pictures that decorate the walls. A small smile makes its way on your face when you notice a picture of Nico when he was younger dressed as one of the Ninja Turtles for what you’re assuming was Halloween. Though with children, it could’ve been a random Tuesday afternoon.

Your heart slams into your rib cage as the voices of Nico’s parents fill your ears, shortly followed by the sound of footsteps approaching you. Nico watches as you fiddled with your fingers and chewed on your bottom lip, and he’s brought back to the moment he first saw you. You were sporting a similar worried look, and you were even wearing a similar dress. The one thing that hadn’t changed, though, was that Nico still thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world.

“Hallo, meine söhne,” Nico’s mother softly speaks as she wraps her arms around Luca, followed by Luca. (Hello, my sons)

“Hallo mama,” Nico greets, returning her affection, “This is Y/N and Charlie.”

“Oh, hello,” She beams, her accent thick and clasping her hands in front of her as she looks at you, “It’s so nice to finally meet you two! I’m Katja. Do you mind if I give you a hug? We are huggers in this family!’

“Of course,” You shyly smiled, stepping into her outstretched arms. Her embrace brought a sort of comfort to you that made you feel at ease and welcomed.

“Sie ist sehr schön, Nico. Warum ist sie nicht schon wieder deine Freundin,” She teases as she looks at her youngest child, though you can only understand a few words of what she said. (She's very beautiful, Nico. Why isn't she your girlfriend again?)

“Er ist eine muschi,” Luca laughed, earning a shove from his brother. (He’s a pussy)

Katja let go of you as she passed you an adoring smile, turning around to briefly scold her two boys before pulling Charlie into a hug. You let your eyes fall on Nico and you noticed the way his neck and cheeks had reddened, so whatever his mother and brother said must’ve been poking fun at him. You weren’t entirely sure what they had said, but you made out the words ‘beautiful’, ‘why’, and ‘she’.

“Where’s dad,” Nico asks, clearing his throat as he slightly steps towards you.

“In the kitchen. Nina and Finn said they will be here soon as well,” She smugly smiles at the way her son seems to drift towards you, whether he’s aware of it or not.

“Is there anything I can help with,” You speak up, swallowing the nervous lump in your throat.

“Absolutely not! You are a guest here. You kids go in the main room and chat. Dinner will be done soon,” She waved the four of you off, subtly raising her eyebrows at Nico as he passes by her.

Nico trails behind you as the four of you fall into the living room, and it’s almost like Charlie and Luca had made a silent agreement to force you and Nico by each other when they sat on the sofa and stretched their limbs out. You playfully roll your eyes at your friend as you sat on the smaller sofa, Nico shaking his head as he took the seat next to you. You ignore Charlie who keeps glancing at the empty recliner, instead focusing on Luca as he begins asking the two of you about your time so far.

Nina and Finn arrive not too long after, the middle child taking immediate notice to the way her brother has his arm loosely slung around the back of the cushion behind you and the way you seemed to lean into him. Luca had taken over the recliner so the couple could sit on the couch, Charlie greeting them before everyone fell back into conversation.

Rino, Nico’s father, comes in when the six of you are discussing potential plans for later in the evening and announces that dinner is ready. A trail of hungry stomachs file into the dining area, everyone taking seats at the table. Katja is on one end followed by Nico, you, and Charlie while the others are on the other side with Nina directly across from you.

“What do you girls do for a living,” Rino asks as they begin passing food around the table.

“We actually just graduated. I majored in digital marketing, and I landed an internship with Ralph Lauren,” You bashfully admitted at the slight bragging moment.

“Congratulations! Nico told us about that, I believe,” Katja nonchalantly added.

Your face flushed as you take the dish from Nico’s hands, his eyes full of mortified apology. Charlie comes to your rescue by going on about her own major, the attention shifting on to her instead of you. You weren’t necessarily embarrassed by the things they had been saying, it just caught you off guard. They were making it increasingly difficult to deny yourself the pleasure of knowing that he didn’t feel the same. It was causing a war within your brain and heart.

The rest of the dinner went by with minimal teasing comments, and you had a fantastic time. You felt slightly guilty when his family would stumble over their English, and you made a point to tell them they didn’t have to do that the entire time. Katja was quick to wave you off and say that it was no problem and they needed to practice. However, you and Charlie both said you needed to practice too, so you compromised. You would speak to them in German and they would speak to you in English. It did not go very well on your end.

You refused to let his parents clean up dinner without your help, telling them how disappointed your mother would be if she found out you didn’t help. Once they realize you’re not backing down they end up letting you help Nico with the dishes while Charlie and Nina are tasked with cleaning the table. Luca and Finn corral Katja and Rino into the living, telling them to relax before they pick up the leftover tasks.

“Sorry about my family,” Nico quietly speaks after a brief silence, taking the dishes you hand him to dry.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” You laugh, “I love them. They’re amazing.”

“Yeah, but I mean the- I’m sorry about their comments,” He shyly admits, clearing his throat as he intently analyzes the plate in his hands.

Your movements still, the warm water running over the dishes as you let your gaze settle on him. The light above the sink illuminates his face in a way that’s almost certainly angelic. His brown eyes seemingly deepen in color under the light, and it makes your knees weak even though he isn’t even looking at you. His Adam's apple bobs as your silence starts to worry him, but when he turns his head he sees you’re already looking at him.

He sees the ghost of a smile toying at your lips when he meets your eyes. Your hair has delicately fallen in your face, and he knows you’ve tried to push it back countless times only for it to happen again. He knew it bugged you, and before he could realize what he was doing, he had placed the plate on the counter and he was reaching for the loose strands.

When you saw Nico’s hand reaching for you, you breath caught in your throat and you swear your heart stopped beating. You kept his gaze, your eyes slightly wider in anticipation as his fingers grazed your cheek. He pushed the hair that had annoyingly fallen in your face behind your ear, your mouth dropping open when he kept his palm against your cheek.

The two of you stare at each other, nothing but the sound of the running water filling your ears. His thumbs moves in the smallest of movements against your skin that you almost don’t feel it, but the action still sends shivers down your spine. Your breathing stutters, and you swear that he starts to move closer to you, but you’re interrupted.

“Are you guys do–,” Luca’s voice cuts through the tension between you, causing the two of you to spring apart, “Oh, I’m very sorry. Carry on, but we do want to leave soon.”

Luca has a smug smile on his face, one that rivals the many you’ve seen on Jack. He hastily walks backwards out of the kitchen, but not before tossing his brother a wink. Humiliation fills your veins as you quietly go back to washing the last few dishes in silence, not trusting yourself to speak. However, Nico mistakes your silence as a sign that he had misread the situation and he puts all of his focus on getting done.

The two of you finish not too long after, filtering out into the main room where the others are waiting to leave. There was no subtlety in their glances, but you ignored it and walked to stand by Charlie before they began going over the plan again. The six of you were going to some bar that they love and meet up with some of Nico’s old friends before coming back to sleep.

After everyone was in agreement, you split into two cars and made your way to the bar. Charlie was texting you the entire drive, trying to get the details of what happened in the kitchen, but you told her it was nothing. She didn’t believe you, saying she’s been third wheeling the whole time and there’s just no way it was nothing. Though she dropped it when you asked her how Jack was doing, noting that he hadn’t been texting you nearly as often as her.

When you arrived at the destination, you filed out of the car and fell in line with Nina and Finn as they led the way inside. Nerves were pricking your skin the closer you got, suddenly feeling more out of place than you had the entire trip. You were no longer going to be surrounded by strangers, you were going to be surrounded by people from Nico’s life here. The thought alone made you nauseous.

Luca trailed behind you as you walked inside and through the sea of people, quite a few of them greeting Nico and his siblings with smiles and hello’s. You felt small when their gazes would fall on you and Charlie, your mind wandering to the most anxious thoughts of what they could be saying about you. With one glance at you, Nico could see through the thin veil of calmness you had draped over yourself.

As Nina and Finn settled at the table, Nico was leaning down to your ear as he spoke, “Do you want to go with me to get a drink?”

You quickly nodded, knowing the alcohol would help ease some of the nerves. You asked Charlie if she wanted anything, but she said she was fine for now and that she would get something later. You followed Nico up to the bar, making a few stops so he could talk to someone, sitting on the bar stool he gestured to.

Nico placed his hand on the exposed part of the seat, his arm pressed against your back as he leaned forward to order a round of drinks for everyone. You tried not to let the effects of his touch show, but anyone who knew you could see that it left you frazzled. He looks down at you, giving you a small smile to attempt and bring you some sort of comfort, and it works at first. Until you hear the sound of a delicate voice directly behind you.

“Nico! Ich wusste nicht, dass du in der Stadt bist.” (Nico! I didn't know you were in town.)

You glance over your shoulder, noticing the way Nico quickly retracts his arm to his side as he slightly turns towards her. A beautiful blonde girl stands there with a bright smile on her face, and it feels like an exceptionally harsh reminder that you were virtually nobody even more so here than you were in Jersey. You watch as they engage in a brief conversation you barely understood before she looks at you.

“Uh, Y/N, this is Julia. She’s an old friend,” Nico awkwardly introduces, not looking away from her as you turn towards them.

You try not to read too far into his body language, but he makes it difficult when he completely turns away from you. He angles himself so that he’s covering a quarter of your body, and it makes your body heat up in embarrassment. You cast your eyes to the ground, but what the girl in front of you says nearly knocks the wind out of you.

“Don’t be silly, Nico. I’m his ex-girlfriend.”

next part

#nico hischier #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier fic #nhl imagine #hockey imagine

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fandxmslxt69 · 9 months

Text

Terrible Liar

Avenger!Loki x Avenger!f!reader

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of injury (reader has a nasty ass wound), mentions of blood and medical supplies, Loki and reader are both assholes to each other but its FUNNY. Rushed plot bc this came to me in a fever dream. Maybe some bad grammar, run on sentences etc. Ignore those ahaha. this is NOT edited or reviewed AT ALL. she's as raw as they come.

A/N: This came to be in a fever dream. Btw. Like God sent it to me. I'm sorry if it feels rushed I was so desperate to get it all down I blacked out. IT'S 5K OKAY MY BAD AHAHAH i'm kind of a slut for this kind of trope so MY BAD. anyway this is for THE @sarahscribbles 's Christmas Celebration!! Sorry I'm a little late, these two wouldn't shut the fuck up so I got carried away. ANYWAY I HOPE YOU ENJOY SARAH I LOVE YOU <3

Synopsis: What could possibly go wrong with spending a night sharing a room with Loki? (aka: enemies to lovers + one bed trope)

Word count: 5K

Oh man. You watched Loki bang the hood of the car in anger. That can’t be good.

You rested your head against the window of the stolen car, taking deep breaths. You could feel your whole body shaking from the adrenaline. You hadn’t calmed down a single bit since the ride out here. How long has it been? Probably less than an hour. You had no idea how far out you were from the nearest town and it absolutely was not the right time for this car to stop. Your entire body hurt from getting kicked in the ass repeatedly during the fight, and your head spun. Your left side throbbed and your shoulder screamed in agony. Not to mention, you are completely separated from the rest of the group, and you have no means of communication. Somewhere along the way, you had lost your comm, and your spare was of no use. Loki said the lines were down anyway, so it wasn’t much help to begin with.

Speaking of the devil, he threw the door of the car open, letting in the chill winter air, and huffed as he got back in, slamming the door behind him. “Stupid, useless vehicle. What is the point of transportation if it fails so easily?” He grumbled.

“It’s out of gas, genius,” “Well it’s not making for a very efficient getaway car,” He ran a hand through his hair. “Well?” You looked at him expectantly, but he only looked back with an expression of confusion. You sat up straighter to face him, but your vision blurred and your head swam. It took you a minute to collect yourself. “We can;t just sit here, we’ll freeze to death,” Loki scoffed. “No I won’t,” You clenched your jaw. “Okay, I’ll freeze to death,” “Tragedy,” His tone was dead as he pulled out his phone to mess with. “I’ll let them know it was a heroic death,” “You’re such an asshole,” “How original,” You nearly growled. “Laufeyson,” “Agent,” He replied smoothly, looking up at you with one of those disarming grins. You were not falling for it. You may be delirious and crashing soon, but you were not falling for Loki’s charms.

“We need to figure something out,” “You mean I need to figure it out,” “Oh my fucking god. I’m not gonna sit here like some passenger princess-” “Agent, you are trembling so hard you couldn’t even walk a foot much less help out in this little dilemma,” Loki interrupted. “I have no desire to starve out here, and horrifyingly, I can’t find it in my heart to let you die out here either. I’ll figure it out,”

You grumbled under your breath, and you were certain he heard you because he grinned wider and went back to messing with his phone.

He was right though, you were shaking really hard- both from the adrenaline and now, the cold. Whenever you exhaled, a puff of white air formed in front of you, and the tip of your nose was starting to go numb. The idea of leaving your fate at the moment in the hands of Loki was an absolutely horrifying idea, since you knew how reckless this guy tended to be. But you didn’t have much of a choice, and as much as it physically pained you to sit quietly and wait, you did just that. It was made another fifteen minutes before Loki peeled his eyes away from the phone pad. He opened the door to the car, and stepped out.

“Hey!” You yelled. “Where the hell are you going? Close the goddamn door!” But of course, he didn’t bother answering or listening. He looked around, staring at his phone occasionally before surveying the area again. And just when you thought he couldn’;t get more insane, he started walking away from the car. Your heart squeezed in your chest. Was he going to leave you here? Like hell he was. You kicked open your door, shakingly getting out of the car. You were vaguely aware of the stab of pain at your side that nearly had you doubled over as black spots danced in your vision, but you willed yourself to push it aside. You slammed the door shut as you walked out after Loki.

“Hey!” You yelled out to him. You had no idea if he could even hear you with the way the wind howled and snow whipped at your face. It was freezing cold, snow biting your cheeks and your teeth chattering after being out here for less than a few minutes. “Laufeyson!” You yelled louder, arm clutching your side and limping in the direction he walked in. No answer. You were positive a storm was kicking up.

“Loki!” You screamed this time, as loud as your voice let you. Your chest heaved, your throat hurt, and the air you gulped stung so bad you were so close to never breathing it again.

“Loki! God help me, Loki, when I find you!” You looked around slowly, yet all you saw was the outline of your stolen car in the winds, and white. So much white. “I’ll haunt you, you know!” You shouted into the wind. “If I die here, I’ll haunt you forever!” You had to shield your eyes from the harsh snow as you yelled. You knew he couldn’t hear you, but you also knew that he couldn’t have gotten too far. How long could he even last out here? Damn it, he could probably last a while.

Stupid, horrible, arrogant Loki. You contemplated going back to the car, but decided that if you were going to imagine a million and one ways to kill and haunt Loki for eternity, you might as well do it while freezing out here. You were only at number fifteen of your haunting possibilities when you heard his stupidly smooth voice. “What in the Nine Realms do you think you’re doing out here?”

You whirled around to find him standing there, absolutely unaffected by the weather or your situation. His cheeks were rosy and his pretty hair was up in a bun (that was more falling apart than anything) and pretty snowflakes hung in the curls.

He looked….well. He looked heavenly, to say the least.

“I was out here looking for you,” You shot back as harshly as you could, but with the way your teeth chattered and the small smirk that tugged at his lips, it didn’t seem to be working. “You should have stayed in the car,” He sounded almost…angry. Why the hell would he be angry when he left you behind? Although, the frown and furrowed brows were a little cute. “You shouldn’t have wandered off and left me behind,” “I was coming to get you,” “Like hell you were,” “I was,” He stepped closer to you, and you had to hold back everything to not huddle up closer to him like a goddamn penguin. He snapped his fingers and you felt something warm and heavy fall on your shoulders. “Put that on. We’re leaving,”

“Leaving?! Where the hell are we leaving?! Do I need to remind you that we are stranded in the middle of a storm?!”

Loki grumbled as he forcefully got you into the jacket he conjured. You didn’t bother saying thank you, which was fine because he only kept glaring at you before marching ahead.

“Where are you going?!” He didn’t bother answering. “Loki!” Assshit. You grumbled and huffed the entire time as you hurried after him, trying to block off the tingling ache at your side. You knew you didn’t get stabbed. Maybe it’s a big cut. You were certain you’d know if a knife had lodged itself into your side.

You had no idea where Loki was taking you but you kept your mouth shut in hopes that it was someplace warm and safe.

“Your hair looks like shit,” You blurted out. Okay, maybe not always keeping your mouth shut.

He looked at you from the corner of his eye. “You don’t look much better,” “Yeah but I said it first,” “Maybe I should have left you in the car,” “I would’ve still found you,” “Yes, haunting me forever,” “You heard that?!” He shrugged. “I was heading back to the car. You weren’t exactly quiet,” You stared at him with wide eyes. “And you didn’t even say anything,” “I found it too amusing to interrupt,” You frowned, shoving him with your shoulder. Wrong move apparently, because your vision started spinning and your knees nearly buckled. Loki wrapped an arm around you ever so gently, as if scared you’d shatter otherwise. “Stop talking,” He snapped. “And stop being so damn aggressive. I would like to make this journey without you collapsing on me,” “I’m not going to collapse,” You mumbled. “You always were a terrible liar,” He muttered under his breath, and more or less carried you to your destination. At first, you didn’t let him, but he won eventually, like he always did, and you leaned the rest of your weight onto him.

You had no idea where you were until you reached the smack middle of a small town. A picture perfect fantasy, almost. Little houses and small shops lined with lights and trees and covered in snow. It was like stepping into a Hallmark movie. Each house was so full of light, and even through the howling wind, you could hear the sounds of laughter and shrieking children.

How the hell did Loki find this place? “There’s a motel here. We’ll book rooms, spend the night. I’m sure there’s Wi-Fi too,” Loki sounded like he was talking more to himself than you.

“Freaking out?” You asked.

“Yes. I’m thinking of which way Stark will kill me if you die,” “Pfft. Tony wouldn’t kill you,” Loki raised his eyebrows but stayed quiet as he walked you both through the town. The storm was clearly picking up, and you were thankful that he had all those genes to keep him alive in this weather, and that he was able to find this place.

When you reached the motel- which appeared to be the only one in town- you couldn’t help smiling (even if you couldn’t feel your face at all anymore). It was a cute little building, rustic and heartwarming. Little snowmen lined the front, and a bed jingled as you and Loki entered. The inside was even better, with burgundy and gold designs and wallpaper that looked like it came straight out of a Victorian novel. It was cozy, and more importantly, warm.

You almost sobbed in relief as you practically collapsed onto an armchair by the counter. Your body sank into it, your nerves singing in joy as you slowly felt your fingertips again.

“Are you alright?” Loki asked.

You nodded. “Yup,” He made a sound of disapproval. “You need to lie better,” “Go shove your head through the wall,” You muttered back. He only grinned. Loki didn’t even appear fazed or relieved at the warmth, and simply marched up to the counter. There was no one there, and he rang the bell at least five times.

“Would you stop that?” You snapped after the sixth time.

“It’s a bell. It’s meant to be used,” “Not like that,” “It’s how you call for attention,” “Well I’m sure whoever runs this place will be here shortly,” He lasted a whole two minutes before he hit the bell again.

“Loki,” You hissed.

“Just a minute!” You heard a cheery voice call from the back, and a short old lady appeared, seemingly out of breath. “Sorry about that, all those damn stairs,” She chuckled to herself.

Loki flashed her a smile. “It’s not a problem at all,” “Oh my,” The old woman smiled back but this time you swore up and down she blushed a little.

Loki and his stupid, disarming smile.

“My…friend and I are a little caught in this storm,” He started, gesturing to you. You waved weakly at the lady and mustered up a smile. She probably thought you were crazy. You had no idea how you looked, but you knew it wasn’t how a normal person should.

“We were wondering if you had any available rooms for the night. Just two is fine,” He turned back to the lady with an even bigger smile.

“Well,” She smiled wider at Loki. “I’ll see what I can do,” He nodded, “Thank you…” he squinted at her name tag. “Lucy. Thank you very much, Lucy,” And there Lucy went, blushing and grinning at him again.

Horrible, absolutely tragic. The poor woman had no idea how insufferable Loki was.

Lucy rummaged through her desk, seemingly looking for keys to the rooms. She pulled out one, placing it on the counter, before going back to look for the other. You waited, tagging your foot on the wood floor, staring at the cute fireplace. Your whole body hummed in gratitude, and your feet tingle, feeling back in them.

“Oh dear,” Lucy muttered to herself.

“Everything alright Lucy?” Loki asked.

“It seems that I only have a single room available. This storm has the place booked fully,” She explained.

Hell no.

Loki sighed. “Very well-” “Are you sure?” You interrupted him. “Can you check again?” You probably sounded desperate, but you couldn’t stop yourself.

You can’t share a room with Loki. You’d go crazy. You’d do something disastrous- like give in to the urge to cuddle into his chest! Or God forbid, tangle your hand in his hair.

“I did, hon. I’m afraid this is all I’ve got,” She said apologetically.

Fuuuuck.

“It’s quite alright, Lucy. There’s two beds in the room, correct? I’m sure we can manage to share a room for a night,” Loki said hastily before you could interrupt again.

Lucy opened her mouth, as if to say something else, before she stopped. “Alright,” “How much is it for the night, darling?” Oh okay, he was really laying it on thick then.

“Oh- oh um…” Lucy chuckled nervously. “This room….it’s 150$ for the night. You can pay in the morning, if you prefer,” “Nonsense,” Loki smiled, pulling out cash from the pocket in his top armour, counting the bills. “Here you go, Lucy,” He handed her the money. “Thank you so very much for your help,” She nodded wordlessly as she handed him the key. Loki took it and turned back to you, arms on his hips. “Are you coming, or must I carry you?” “I wouldn’t mind being carried…” You started jokingly. Apparently, Loki couldn’t read the room, because he frowned, shrugged and then walked over, picking you up effortlessly.

“Hey-!” You started to protest, but a sudden wave of pain shot through you, shutting you up. “I was joking,” You muttered.

“Mhm,” He said, shooting Lucy another smile before heading upstairs to your room. The stairs were cute too, you noticed, lined with a soft matt and cute lamps lined the walls. And Loki’s chest was really warm, and- that had nothing to do with the motel.

Before your thoughts could get any more dangerous, Loki stopped in front of a room, hand rummaging through his back pocket to get the key. “You can put me down now,” “I’ll put you down when I feel like it,” Shithead.

He unlocked the door and stepped in, closing it behind him with his foot. All businesslike, he walked over to the big bed and placed you down on it. It was comfy, and you had to control yourself from not falling back and getting it dirty in all your blood and gore. Loki looked you over. “Fine?” You nodded. “Fine,” He smiled and you were certain he was going to call you a liar but you stopped him. “Laufeyson?” “What?” “Where’s the other bed?” Loki froze, looking around the room slowly. “Oh,” “Oh?” He looked back at you. “It seems, darling, that there is no other bed,” “No fucking shit! You’re sleeping on the floor,” He looked at you in disbelief. “Absolutely not. We can share the bed like civilised people,” “Everyone always says that! And then it never works out!” You threw your hands up. You winced, immediately dropping your hands to hold your side. “Everyone? Who the hell is everyone?” “The movies, duh,” He stared at you. “You’re serious,” “Dead,” He ran a hand down his face. “Alright. We’ll split the bed or something. I truly don’t care enough. I simply want to sleep,” You shrugged. “Fine. Go shower first, then I’ll go in,” “I don’t have clothes to change out of, genius,” “You’re a god genius,” You replied mockingly. “I’m pretty sure you can snap your fingers and get us some clothes,” He stared at you, like he hadn’t had that thought at all. “Right.” And indeed, with a snap of his fingers, a pile of clothes appeared on the bed, and one in his hands. “Try not to get yourself killed,” “I hope you drown in the shower,” He smiled at you before heading into the washroom. You were finally alone, even for a few minutes. You breathed a sigh of relief. Being around Loki always ended with one of you flustered. Tragically, it tended to be you. You looked through the pile of clothes Loki summoned- a plain shirt that appeared way too large, and some plaid pants. They weren’t outrageous. You just had to make sure you hadn’t lost any limbs.

You slowly peeled off the layers of your top- the jacket, weapons, cash, your useless comms and phone- and then unzipped your equally-useless-in-the-cold vest. You laid all your things on the floor, not wanting to get the bed dirty. Then, slowly, you lifted your top just under your chest, sucking in a deep breath.

Fuck.

There was a nasty looking cut, starting from right under your ribs and nearly crossing the other side. You didn’t think it looked terrible, but you are almost certain it needed stitches. It wasn’t bleeding too much, but that might have to do with being out in the cold for too long than anything else- even your top was more or less soaked in blood.

You didn’t even have a first aid kit. You traced around the cut slowly, wincing when it hurt. You prayed it wasn’t infected.

“Alright, hm?” Your head snapped up to see Loki freshly showered and changed, his now useless mission suit nowhere in sight. “Um, yeah, I’m fine,” His jaw ticked. “You’re hurt,” “Yeah but I’m fine,” “You are bleeding,” He sounded ...angry. Was he mad at you? “It’s not like I did it on purpose,” You snapped.

He clenched and unclenched his fists. He opened his mouth to say something, before he shook his head and stormed out of the room.

“What the fuck? You called out after him. He didn’t answer as the door slammed behind him.

You had no clue why he had to be so mad. It’s not like you chose to get hurt, and you certainly weren’t going to ask him for anything, so why’d he get so pissy? You grumbled to yourself as you grabbed the clothes, heading into the bathroom to scrub off the day.

It took you a solid twenty minutes to wash everything out. You were very careful to not open your cut further, taking warm water to wash off the dried blood around it.

You tugged on the plain shirt as you stepped out of the bathroom. You winced when you reached up to tie your hair, deciding to just leave it down to dry. You had thrown your old clothes on the pile of Loki’s in the bathroom, and used a spare towel to press against your wound.

“Welcome back,” You said sarcastically when you found Loki sitting on the bed.

“Come here,” He said curtly.

“You can’t just order me around after you walk out you know? And you can’t get bitchy with me for no fucking reason-” “Will you please come sit down so you can look at your wound,” Loki snapped, but it didn’t sound harsh. It was almost…pleading. You froze in your spot, blinking slowly at him. His voice sounded devastated and in your daze, you nodded, slowly walking over to sit on the bed beside him.

“May I?” He gestured to your shirt and you nodded again. He lifted it over your head, and suddenly you were thankful for putting on the sports bra Loki brought with your clothes.. “You didn’t say anything,” He whispered.

You swallowed. This was too freaky. You never got this close with Loki. “We-...we had other things to worry about,” You swore his hands trembled as he reached into the first aid kit beside him. Where did he get that? Did he run out to buy one? Damn it. You and Loki didn’t do fluffy shit. The one day you needed him to be an asshole….

He took his time cleaning the wound, and you tried your best to keep your yelps of pain down.

“Do you want stitches?” Loki asked in a soft tone. He looked ...frightened. And why too pale. Did he get squirm-ish at this stuff?

“Are you a medical professional?” You asked.

“Farthest thing from it,” You hummed. “Just wrap it up,”

He nodded, grabbing some cotton pads and the gauze. He carefully placed the pads onto the wound, and began wrapping the gauze around your waist. His fingers brushed against your skin, and you shivered at the touch.

“There,” He exhaled, pulling his hands away. “You can put your shirt back on,” “Yeah,” You nodded. You should definitely grab it now. You should probably put it on. But you didn’t move a muscle, not with the way Loki stared at you, and the way his eyes dipped lower occasionally. He looked away, appearing flustered, his fists clenched on his thighs. “Loki?” “What?” He snapped.

“Why are you so angry?” “You could have died,” His voice died down to nothing but a desperate whisper. “You could have died,” You opened your mouth to protest, to say that you had it under control and that everything was fine, but he shook his head.

“Don’t you dare say everything was ‘fine’. You’re still such a terrible liar,” You weren’t. He just had that freaky ability to tell when you lied every damn time.

“You could have died. Human life is so horribly fragile, you could have died at any second. What was I to do then, hm? Stare at your lifeless body?” “I thought you’d rejoice at my death,” You joked, trying to break the tension. His eyes snapped to look at yours, his jaw clenched and his eyes wide with fear. You thought he’d say something, but instead he just leaned in, crushing his lips harshly against yours. Before you could even react, he pulled away, breathing heavily.

“I would have died too. In the simplest terms, my heart would have stopped working the minute yours did too,” You froze in shock, staring at him with wide eyes. What just happened? Your lips tingled from the kiss. You wanted him to do it again. “What the hell are you saying, Loki?” “I’m saying that you are incredibly stupid and idiotic and completely selfish. And that I would rather die than live a life without you in it,” He started, his tone angry and desperate. Your head was spinning. Maybe there was drugs in the linen of this bed. Or maybe Loki hit his head.

“Say something,” Loki pleaded now, the fight gone from him. “I’m sorry if I offended you. I’m sorry I’ve been such an ass. I can’t help myself. I go crazy every time you’re around. I can’t think straight and I….I don’t know what to do with myself. I’ve never done this before. I thought perhaps if I annoyed you enough, I’d get you out of my head. But Norns, every time you shot some clever remark back, it only egged me on more,” He was rambling at this point.

You felt confused, but at the same time a sense of relief washed over you. It wasn’t like you were in love with Loki- but you definitely didi entertain the idea of occasionally making out with him or spending the day shopping together.

So maybe it was a little crush.

And fuck, it was a relief to hear him blurt out how helpless he was with you.

“Did you black out?” Loki asked. He cursed under his breath, getting up to give you some space. “I apologise, I shouldn’t have said anything. I came off too strong,” He fumbled as he stood up, running a hand through his hair. “I just…I panicked. I apologise-” “Loki,” You stopped him from spiralling further, even if it was cute to see his usually composed self dissolve. You shuffled over to him on your knees. Even while on the bed, he was still fucking giant. You cupped his face and pulled him down, pressing a kiss to his lips.

You pulled away after a second, dizzy from the feel of his lips on yours. It was better than you could have ever imagined. He stared at you in shock, lifting his fingers up to press them to his lips. You nearly died right there.

“What was that for?” he asked, shocked.

You laughed, kissing him again. He leaned into it this time, wrapping his arms carefully around your waist, his lips pressing against yours.

You kissed him again and again and again, until you were both breathless and his lips were swollen and you were sure yours were too.

“You’re really fucking insufferable, by the way,” You muttered against his lips. He hummed, chasing after yours as you pulled away. “You drive me insane. You’re in my head all the damn time, I can’t get rid of you,” “Don’t get rid of me, then,” He captured your lips in another bruising kiss. “I don’t plan to,” You sighed happily as you shuffled back onto the bed, pushing aside bandages and gauze wrap and wipes. Loki was a lot neater, taking his time to put them away onto the night table. He crawled into bed with you, his body hovering over yours, hands on either side of your head, caging you in. He leaned down, pressing another kiss to your lips. One kiss turned into two, into three, and then you were making out lazily, your lips crushed together, heavy pants and heated breaths for god knows how long. Tragically, Loki rolled off of you, laying down beside you. You took deep breaths, trying to calm your racing heart.

Loki shifted, laying now on his side to look at you. You did the same, smiling softly. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

“If you couldn’t tell, I’m not quite a people person,” You chuckled. “No, I guess not,” He could be your person though.

Maybe that’s too early to say. You kept your mouth shut.

“Did I come off too strong?” “Nah,” You shook your head, reaching out to wrap your finger around a lock of his hair. “It was a Hallmark-worthy confession,” “What in the Norns is this Hallmark?” You laughed. “It’s a company. It makes lots of cheesy rom coms, all of which have some sort of frustratingly handsome male lead and big confessions,” “So you’re saying I’m handsome,” He grinned devilishly.

“Can’t deny it,”

He leaned in and kissed you again. You kissed him back but then pushed him off. “Stop it. I’ll become addicted,” He leaned back in. “Not a problem. I have no plans to go anywhere,” You ducked away from him, laughing. “If you keep making out with me Loki Laufeyson, we will be having sex,” His brows furrowed. “Absolutely not. Not while you’re injured,” Damn.

“Fine, then stop kissing me,” “Well that’s unfair. I just got started!” You shrugged. “It’s not my call,” He huffed, pulling you closer, your back flat against his chest. His arm wrapped carefully around your waist, the hand coming to rest just under your wound. “Go to bed then. Before I do something crazy,” “I like crazy. I’m quite fond of crazy,” “Yes, crazy seems to follow you everywhere. It might be your whole identity, really,” “Is that an insult?” A pause. “I don’t think so,”

You fell silent for a minute. “I think Lucy has a crush on you,” Loki laughed. “What makes you say that?” “Um, the way she blushed when you smiled at her? You laid it on so thick,” You could hear the shiteating grin as he spoke. “I have no idea what you mean, darling. I spoke to her like a normal person,” “Hm,” You wiggled closer to him. “Nah, you definitely were charming her,” His hand squeezed your hip.

“Stop that,” “What?” You feigned innocence.

“Stop moving,” You wiggled your ass again, just for a bit of emphasis. “What? This?”

You swore the sound he made then was some growl. “You find new ways to annoy me every day,” “It’s my talent,” “And you excel at it,” You truly did. No one ever got under his skin like you did. And now with this new layer of your relationship, you have an infinite number of possibilities.

You knew you guys should probably talk. Figure out where you stand. A plan for tomorrow morning. Try to communicate with the team. You couldn’t find it in yourself to care right now though. Loki was warm, and as he peppered kisses across your shoulder, you felt like maybe tomorrow would be a good day too.

“I still think you’re an ass,” You mumbled, your eyes half closed.

He laughed, the sound vibrating in his chest. “Truly a terrible liar,” He pressed a kiss under your ear. “I still think you are the bane of my existence,” “The only one?” “The only one,” You hummed, content with the answer. You could figure things out tomorrow. Tonight, you just wanted to lay in this haze of sunshine. To sleep and wake up to get drunk on Loki again.

Tags: I'm gonna tag a few people because I think I'm silly and this is my second little christmas-y fic so what the hell i dont care LMAO. DONT FEEL OBLIGED TO READ <3 @sarahscribbles @divine-knight-hand @holdmytesseract @joyful-enchantress @saturn-rings-writes

#loki laufeyson #loki #loki x reader #loki laufeyson fluff #loki x f!reader #loki fanfiction #loki fic

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